Parallel Loves
by rootesie
Summary: Set approximately 1 year after CoE. Jack has been driven to extremes by grief and finds a way to get Ianto back again, but it's not really his Ianto. Mixes lashings of angst and UST, with a dash of humour and a pinch of alien spice.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings:** Occasional strong language and m/m sexual references/situations. Adult themes and ideas. Jack acting in a strange manner to begin with (don't worry, it's intentional)

**Author's note:** This is my attempt at a CoE fix-it, but without changing anything that actually happened in that awful series (much as I might want to). Feedback welcomed, whatever its flavour. This story is completed and beta-d, and will be posted a chapter a day for the next month.

*****

The man in the charcoal grey suit removes his jacket with a sigh, tossing it over the back of a nearby chair. Rolling up the sleeves of his red shirt, he glances around the empty marketing office and out over the Thames, pausing to admire the lights twinkling in the dark water.

"Why is it always me who has to do this? Office dogsbody, that's me," he mutters, a frown of concentration furrowing his brow as he opens the side of the photocopier and peers inside.

After several minutes of fruitless fumbling he rises, looks at his toner stained fingers with an expression of distaste, and strides off towards the bathroom.

As the grey water drains away the man studies his face in the mirror. The harsh, buzzing fluorescent light gives his skin an unhealthy green tinge, accentuating the pockets of fatigue under his sorrowful blue eyes. Lines of grief mark his pale forehead, beneath the carefully groomed dark hair. He smiles ruefully: if Lisa could see him now she'd send him off to bed with a sharply worded warning about the dangers of taking his work too seriously. Then join him later, slipping between the sheets and caressing his weary shoulders, neck, chest....

He closes his eyes and loses himself in the memory, experiencing a brief moment of happiness. When he opens them his face seems softer; more like the Ianto Jones who lived, loved and knew how to have fun. The memories are getting less painful as the years pass, rolling back through time away from that terrible moment when the girder fell, trapping her mangled body beneath it and stealing her away from him. Ianto winces, banishes the memory and dries his hands fastidiously before returning to the broken copier.

Staring at the machine, Ianto resigns himself to the inevitable; there is nothing for it but to crawl under the desk and check the connections at the back. Battling with the snakes nest of cables, he is too distracted to hear the swish of the office door.

"Well, hello there, and isn't that a sight for sore eyes?" drawls a man's voice behind him, making Ianto start and bump his head on the desktop. He crawls out backwards, rubbing his sore head and feeling irritated at the intrusion.

"And who the hell are you? We're closed now," Ianto challenges. The dark-haired, impossibly handsome man leans back against the closed door with a knowing smile and raised eyebrow. Ianto takes in the archaic clothing and a smile twitches briefly across his lips. It's good to see another man who takes some pride in his appearance.

"Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood. My reputation may have preceded me," he announces, striding towards Ianto, gripping his hand and pumping it up and down.

"But... weren't you Torchwood Cardiff. You all died in the explosion. All of Cardiff died," Ianto squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to think of the family he lost that day. When he opens them, Jack is standing even closer, staring at him in a way that makes him feel uncomfortable for reasons he can't fathom. A heady scent rolls off him, sending a dizzying wave through Ianto's body.

"Rumours of my demise have been greatly exaggerated, Ianto Jones." He says Ianto's name softly, blue eyes glinting.

"Okaaay, you can let go of my hand now," Ianto insists, backing away and finding himself trapped against the desk.

"Oh, sorry, got a bit carried away there," Jack laughs mischievously. "It's not every day you get to meet the great Ianto Jones."

"Look, I don't know how you got in here or how you know my name, but I want you to leave now!" Ianto tries to sound tougher than he feels. Jack had taken another step closer as he spoke and he can feel the heat of his body just inches from his own.

"Okay, I'll leave, but hear me out first. I only have two more minutes until the window closes," he says quickly, glancing at the antique stopwatch in his left hand. "I'm from a parallel dimension where Cardiff didn't burn, and I'm head-hunting. I need a new coffee boy and I understand you're the best,"

Ianto groans. "Has one of lads in finances put you up to this, mate? Look, it's not funny, I'm tired, I have a massive backlog of photocopying I need to sort out and I'm starting to get a caffeine withdrawal headache, so if you don't mind," he pushes Jack but the man is unmoveable.

"We may have got off on the wrong foot." Jack flashes another predatory grin. "Just listen to what I'm offering: a Cardiff where you get a great job chasing aliens with me, your family still alive and did I mention I have a new Gaggia machine waiting for someone with the ability to work coffee magic?"

"Even if that were true, why me?"

"Yes indeed, why you, Ianto Jones? I think you have hidden talents that this world hasn't yet stimulated," Jack moves so close Ianto can feel his breath on his cheek. Whispers in his ear, "I can help you find them."

"Not interested, mate," Ianto mutters, trying to wriggle away but finding Jack has his hands clamped to the desk either side of him.

"Oh, but you will be. And anyway, it's not like I'm giving you a choice."

And with that he pockets the stopwatch, grabbing Ianto's wrist with his left hand and using his right to press a button on his leather wrist strap.

The world disappears in a flash of blue light.


	2. Chapter 2

_Bright lights swirling, a sensation of being turned inside out, spikes of pain, then crashing, crashing to earth like a block of concrete. Broken, put back together, rising nausea, a tidal wave..._

*****

"Oh god, help me Rhys, I don't want any more sick on my trousers today!"

"Okay, okay, it's not so easy to move fast with a baby strapped to your chest."

"You're telling me? Who the hell do you think had to carry him around for nine months without a break? Jack, Jack, are you there? Oh my god, you really did it! I can't believe you found him!"

"I said I would, didn't I? Jeez, that was rough, Gwen. I thought I told you to compensate for the extra mass on the return journey."

"Well, if you will leave it until the last second to return, you ungrateful sod! Did it really take all that time to persuade him or were you just wasting time flirting?"

"I wish! I ended up materialising fifteen floors below and spent half the time running up stairs. Is he alright? Ianto? Speak to me, Ianto?"

*****

The voices wash over Ianto, lying eyes closed, dry-retching with what feels like the worst hangover ever. Strong arms pull him into a sitting position and he leans back, grateful for the support.

*****

"And he came willingly, after all? Looks like we owe you that bottle of scotch after all."

"Erm, not exactly.... Well, I didn't get much time, did I?" The voice vibrates through Ianto's body and he starts to rouse.

"Oh god, Jack, you didn't go and bloody well kidnap him, did you?"

"He'll be alright once he gets used to the idea. Look at him, it's Ianto! He loves it here, or at least, he will... Won't he?"

*****

"You can all stop talking as if I'm not here," Ianto opens his eyes, takes in the concerned faces of two strangers peering at him then catches a glimpse of the bizarre cavern behind them. He shuts then again. "Oh shit, where am I? And why does my head feel like it's been buggered by a rhinoceros?"

The arms embracing him from behind let go and hold his head firmly. Fingers start to massage his temples. He groans, softly, as the pain begins to subside.

"Feeling better now? I always have had the magic touch," the owner of the fingers says, a suggestive note in his voice.

Ianto leaps to his feet as if in fright, whirling round to confront the grinning man, lounging against the wall behind him.

"You, you did this! Where the hell have you brought me? Take me back this instant, you bastard," he shouts at his kidnapper.

Jack rises, laughing, stepping closer.

"What, and miss all this fun? Ianto Jones, may I introduce you to the Williams family, Gwen, Rhys and baby Aeris."

Ianto turns to the smiling couple: an attractive dark haired woman and a large man with a baby strapped to his chest. Manners prevail: "Oh, uh, pleased to meet you," he manages, shaking hands with a bewildered expression.

"And this, Ianto Jones, is the Hub, also known as Torchwood Three, your new workplace and home," Jack announces with pride, gesturing expansively at the surrounding cavern.

Ianto takes in the cascading water feature, high-tech machinery and jumble of walkways, platforms and glassed-in rooms. He inhales the pervading smell of damp concrete and fresh paint, nose twitching as a more welcome aroma enters his nostrils.

"Is that Jamaican Blue Mountain? I could murder a coffee!"

*****

Later, collapsing into a large leather armchair, Ianto tries to make sense of his evening. The tour with Gwen who talked constantly about the recent rebuilding and giving him a full run-down of baby Aeris' most endearing habits. Her evasive answers whenever he asked her why he had been head-hunted. The intense looks from Jack that disturb him for no reason he could put a name to. The crazy architecture of this underground lair.

Gwen and Jack saunter in and sit opposite him, Gwen perched on the edge of the sofa and Jack reclining. They both seem to be waiting for something. Expecting something from him, but he has no idea what it might be.

"I made you a coffee," says Gwen, gesturing at the chipped mug on the ring-stained table in front of him.

"Thanks," he sniffs it suspiciously. Filter, of course, hardly worth drinking. He takes a sip anyway so as not to seem ungrateful.

"So... be honest with me. Is there any way of getting me back to my universe?"

Shaking heads.

Ianto sighs deeply. "Okay, it wasn't a great life. I'm not going to waste my time trying to persuade you to find a way to take me back," he pauses, reflects, "but you're going to have to tell me: why me? There are other survivors of Torchwood One. I was about the lowest rank there was..." he trails off. "Actually, you could use someone who can file by the looks of it," glancing at the heap of folders piled haphazardly in the corner, "and the state of the gents is an absolute disgrace. Don't you have a cleaner in this place?"

Jack and Gwen exchange a meaningful look.

"What did I tell you, Gwen, the most anal man I've ever met. And I do mean that as a compliment," Jack winks at Ianto. "Your predecessor had the job title of General Support Officer, which meant manning reception, buildings maintenance, admin., refreshments, even acting as my butler when occasion demanded. We know you have all the right qualities to replace him."

Ianto refuses to be flattered: "So why did he leave? Did the constant harassment wear him down?"

To his surprise Jack does not respond, but looks down at his hands, tight-lipped.

"Jack, I think we need to tell him. Now." Gwen's voice is serious, authoritative. Ianto can see her as the police officer she claims to have been.

Jack sighs, looks searchingly into Ianto's eyes as he begins in a low voice: "He died a hero's death, Ianto Jones, and not a day goes by when I don't think of him, don't miss him. There was only one other who could ever replace him and that's you."

"Why me?" Ianto whispers, feeling he is teetering on the brink of a disturbing revelation.

"Because you are him. He was Ianto Jones and you are a parallel version of him. I just hope you can fill his boots."

And with that Jack rose abruptly and strode out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

A knock at the door.

Ianto sighs, pulling the cord of the red silk dressing gown tighter and contemplating whether or not to answer. It's been a long and confusing evening, but the hot shower has revived him and he doesn't think he could sleep yet with all the questions racing through his mind. But there's only one person that could be and he's still furious with him: would it be better to confront him now or sleep on it?

Knocking again, more insistent. A voice: "Ianto? I know you're in there. Can we talk?" A pause, then a new tone to the voice, almost desperate: "Please?"

Holding the door open a crack, Ianto meets Jack's intense gaze for a moment, then finds safer territory staring at the floor. He hasn't seen the man since his disturbing announcement earlier, and had rather been hoping that he was alone in the Hub.

"I don't think there's anything else I want to hear right now. It's all been a bit much to take in," his voice low, fury contained for the moment.

Jack pushes past him confidently, walking into the sleeping quarters like he has every right to be there. Ianto feels a shock like an electric charge as their arms make brief contact.

"So, what do you think of the room? Reckon we did a good job, you wouldn't think you were ten metres underground!"

Ianto casts a critical eye over the redbrick walls, polished floorboards and low ceiling with recessed lighting. The only furniture is a large, low bed; a leather armchair and small side table facing the wall mounted screen; and a row of built in cupboards lining one wall. It is clean, warm and minimalist so there is nothing to find fault with, but he hadn't fully taken stock of it when Gwen showed him in earlier. She'd said he could find an apartment as soon as he was ready, but he would need to make himself officially alive again first. Until then, this was his room.

"Except for the lack of windows, perhaps?" he comments drily, waiting to see what Jack wants.

"Oh, I forgot," Jack exclaimed, an expression of childish glee transforming his chiselled features. "You have got to see this!" He strides over to the blank screen and presses a few buttons. It transforms into a night view out over Cardiff Bay. "Live feed from the camera outside. Thought it would make you feel at home."

Ianto stares at the screen, feeling a lump rise in his throat as he takes in the view he had thought lost forever. He turns to Jack, wanting to thank him but is surprised to see that he is rummaging through a cupboard in the corner.

"Aha! I thought I'd put them in here," he says triumphantly, holding up a bottle of scotch and two glasses. "Can I offer you a drink? You take it straight up, I believe?"

"Um, shouldn't that be my job?" Ianto manages. He could use a stiff drink. This situation is alarming him and he doesn't want to think about why.

"Well, I was wondering where your manners had got to," Jack grins, "I was hoping you hadn't left them in that other universe. Are you going to offer me somewhere to sit?"

"Yes, please, take it," Ianto says faintly, gesturing towards the armchair.

Jack sits down on the bed and pats the covers next to him. Ianto's eyes widen and he steps backwards, sitting down in the vacant armchair instead. He knocks back the scotch in one, enjoying the warm sensation in his mouth and throat.

"Have you had a chance to look through the cupboards, yet?"

Ianto shakes his head so Jack continues, rising to pour him another large scotch. "There's a fully stocked wardrobe. I figured you must be the same size as Ianto was, so they should all fit. Yes, you look the same size," he pauses, eyes travelling up and down the younger man's body, "You know, you should be careful wearing red around a man like me. It inflames the passions; that's why hookers often wear it."

The way Jack is staring at him makes Ianto intensely uncomfortable, suddenly aware of his vulnerability, clad only in a thin silk dressing gown. He rises, on the defensive now: "Are you saying I look like a prostitute?"

Infuriatingly, Jack just laughs and walks over to the cupboards.

"This one at the end here contains some of Ianto's personal effects. It might give you a few clues as to what he was like, his interests and so on."

"But I _am_ Ianto," he states, emphatically; his rising anger giving him courage to stand up to this overbearing intruder.

"I don't follow your meaning," Jack says, looking puzzled.

"I _am_ Ianto Jones and I don't have anything to do with this other man you're calling by my name. You're going to have to call him something else when I'm around as this is confusing enough without there being two of me. And you know what: I don't give a damn about his life and 'personal effects'. They are nothing to do with me!"

He advances on Jack, fury raising his voice and fuelling his outburst: "And another thing, you needn't think that just because you brought me here that you can choose where I live and work, what I wear, what I do with my time." He pushes Jack roughly in the centre of his chest; pushes him in the direction of the door, too enraged to notice the stricken expression on the other man's face.

"I am my own man and you are just my boss and you have no right to push your way into my bedroom in the middle of the night."

Jack is out of the door now, but he puts a foot out to stop Ianto from shutting it in his face.

"Okay, if that's the way you want it then fine. I'll expect you to report for work at nine. I want a coffee on my desk by quarter past: black, industrial strength, no sugar." His voice is colder now, controlled.

"Yes, sir," Ianto hisses at him as he slams the door shut, investing the last word with as much venom as he can muster.

*****

Two sides of a door.

Against one, a man in a red dressing gown is slumped, head between his knees, body heaving as he weeps.

Against the other, just inches away, a man leans, stony-faced, with a glass of scotch in his hand. He stares at the wall opposite without seeing it, eyes brimming with unshed tears.


	4. Chapter 4

The light wakes him. The April dawn a ghostly, second hand radiance emanating from the wall screen. Ianto rises through layers of half-forgotten dreams, peaceful for a precious moment before nagging thoughts threaten his equilibrium.

Something had happened yesterday. Something important.

His eyes snap open and stare up at himself, troubled blue eyes meeting his in the mirror mounted on the ceiling. He closes them and groans, choosing not to think about the mirror for now. There are too many other thoughts crowding into his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. One muscles it's way to his attention: an image of a dark-haired man with a shark's grin. Ianto tries to remember the rumours about Captain Jack Harkness that circulated the Torchwood One offices. Wasn't he the man who couldn't die? The man who had lived for over a hundred years? The man from the distant future? The man with an insatiable appetite for sex? _God knows, you can't put too much faith in office gossip, _ Ianto thinks; remembering some of the things that had been said about him, despite his monk-like habits of the last couple of years. With an unconscious gesture, he runs his fingers over the raised scar tissue that snakes up from his left wrist to his elbow.

He turns his mind to other, only slightly less troubling issues. The new job; his sister, niece and nephew, in fact the whole city, resurrected; what to wear; coffee...

Sighing, he climbs out of bed, stretches, and stands naked before the row of cupboards. He doesn't like the idea of wearing the clothes that Jack has chosen for him, but he isn't going in search of coffee in that flimsy dressing gown, and he can't contemplate wearing yesterday's soiled outfit.

Opening a wall cupboard with some trepidation, Ianto is pleased to discover a row of dark coloured suits hanging from a rail. He reaches out to feel the fabric: a smoothly woven wool, soft and pliable. Lifting out the hanger, he pauses to admire the quality. He has never owned a suit this expensive before, although often fantasised about the possibility when window shopping in Savile Row. The next cupboard is lined with compartments, each holding a neatly folded shirt. The colours are intense: reds, purples, pinks, mauves, blues. His hands pause before a deep red, his favourite colour, then move to a safer choice of royal blue. A dizzying selection of silk ties hang from rails on the back of the doors. He pulls out one at random: black with small white polka dots. It co-ordinates beautifully with the shirt and suit. A strange feeling troubles Ianto, until he realises what it is: anticipation. Something he hasn't enjoyed in a long, long time. Maybe this universe won't be so bad, after all.

*****

Fortified by a hot shower, and thoroughly enjoying the fit of the expertly tailored suit, Ianto feels ready to risk finding the coffee machine. It's only 7.35, so hopefully the Hub will be deserted. He wants some time to just take in his surroundings, alone.

Lines of light dance across the walls of the main cavern, reflected from the ever moving pool of water down below. Ianto breathes deeply, steadying himself, before crossing the vast space. The kitchen area is lit with a low, yellow glow, just bright enough for him to investigate the cupboards and fridge. Bending down, in search of beans to grind, a shiver runs through him.

_Someone is watching._

He spins around in a defensive crouch, eyes scanning the dimly lit space. No one visible. His eyes are drawn up to the blank windows of Jack's office. Can he see a dark figure? But there is nothing, just paranoia causing his pulse to race and breathing to quicken.

_Deep breaths, Ianto,_ he thinks to himself, forcing his concentration back to the task. _You'll feel much better when you've had a cup of coffee._

*****

In the dark office a man leans back against his desk, also trying to regain control of his traitorous body. He watches the younger man grinding coffee, tamping it down and operating the pump with practised movements. There is an economy and precision in the way he moves that Jack has always admired, but seeing it again after more than a year is proving more painful than he had ever imagined. He wants nothing more than to bound down the steps and gather Ianto into his arms, never letting go again.

But he can't, because this isn't his lover, after all. This man, for all his heart-wrenching familiarity is a stranger to Jack. A stranger who pushed him away with hatred in his eyes.

Gwen's words of the previous evening come back to him: "Give him time, Jack. Give him space."

If only he'd listened.


	5. Chapter 5

Leaning on the railing, Ianto stares out over the Bristol Channel as the wind tousles his hair and dries the tear sliding down his cheek. He'd never dreamt that one day he would be standing here again. In this beautiful, troubled city. Cardiff. Home.

The empty mug in his hands is rapidly losing heat, and as he looks down into the brown dregs it triggers a memory of his usual morning routine. Coffee, followed by two little white tablets. Tablets sitting on a kitchen shelf in a parallel world.

"Oh shit."

*****

"Awww, aren't you a gorgeous young man, you little heartbreaker," followed by a loud, wet kissing sound. "Oh, ah, morning Ianto. Good to see you there... making coffee," Gwen's voice trails off, unsure of how to address the worried looking man in the Hub's kitchen. She looks down at Aeris and gives him another kiss on the forehead, making the baby giggle.

Ianto looks up from the coffee machine and manages a faint smile with his greeting to the Williams family. So many conficting emotions are fighting for dominance that he can't think straight. _One thing at a time, Ianto, one thing at a time_, he tells himself. And at the moment, the most important task is getting this coffee to the man in the office.

At the thought of facing Captain Jack Harkness he breaks out in a cold sweat; fear, anger and other, more confusing feelings threaten to overwhelm him. _Get a grip on yourself_, he mentally chastises, forcing his features into the blank, unreadable mask he has been wearing around others for so long now.

"I'll get you a coffee after I've taken this up," Ianto offers, choosing to ignore the look of concern on Gwen's face. _Just don't ask me how I'm feeling. I don't think I can cope with that right now._

*****

"Come in," Jack responds to the hesitant knocking on his office door. He knows exactly who it is, remembering the same knock from the early days, before Ianto had the confidence to push his way into his life. Keeping his eyes on the page before him, he senses Ianto move towards him with light, measured steps.

"Your coffee, Sir. Where would you like it?"

At the sound of those beloved, lilting Welsh vowels, Jack closes his eyes and desperately searches for his resolve. He will not make a fool of himself again and risk driving this beautiful young man even further away. "Just there, on the desk," he forces out, hoping that his voice doesn't betray his inner turmoil.

"Thank you, Ianto," he remembers as the mug is placed before him. With this he risks a quick glance up at the other man, but cannot read anything in his inscrutable expression.

"I trust that Gwen gave you a run down of your main duties last night. If there's anything else you need to know, just ask her. I'll look in on you at some point later." Jack praises himself for his control and professionalism, two qualities he knows he has neglected over the years. He keeps his eyes on the page before him, but all his other senses are focused on the other man and his proximity. His skin tingles with the desire to reach out and touch him. Show him how much he adores him; show him how good they can be together. _Damn, this is going to be harder than I thought_, he says to himself.

"As you wish, Sir," comes the response, and when Jack makes no further comment Ianto turns and walks out with a steady pace, not knowing that a pair of eyes follow him across the room.

As the door closes, Jack exhales audibly and stretches his arms and neck to relieve the tension. _That went better than expected,_ he thinks, glad that there was no return to the vitriol of last night. But a small part of him misses that passion. At least it was clear how Ianto felt about him. Now he has no idea at all.

Is there anything there? Any attraction? Anything he can build a relationship on? _God, Ianto, why do you always have to be so quiet and mysterious?_

"Back to work, Jack," he mutters to himself, and tries once again to lose himself in the mind-numbing intricacies of risk assessment forms.

*****

Outside the door, Ianto leans back against the wall, breathing rapidly, hoping he cannot be seen by the man within. He wonders how long he will be able to keep up this charade. How long it will be before panic engulfs him.

He needs to see a doctor.


	6. Chapter 6

"So, let me get this clear, you picked me out of all the worlds you looked at, because I had the least to lose," Ianto asks, careful to keep his tone neutral.

"Yeees," Gwen hesitates, "but it wasn't like that, really. We were just trying to do the least damage to other lives. We didn't want to..." She falters, noting the grimace as he fights for control of his feelings.

"We were able to get a computer link through the rift, using this new piece of alien tech Jack brought back with him," she is gabbling now, and knows it, but needs to justify her actions. "We checked government records, found out who you were living with and where. What job you did. Whether you even existed, that sort of thing."

"And what other versions of me had lives worth living, then?" he demands, this time unable to disguise the resentment he feels.

Gwen decides it best to tell him everything. She begins in a quiet, steady voice: "In seven of the worlds you were dead. Killed in the battle of Canary Wharf. Or shortly after." She glances down at the exposed skin of Ianto's left wrist where the scar begins. "Or a long time after, the same way you died here. In another four you were living with Lisa. We found one where she'd left Torchwood and you had married and had a baby on the-"

"And we even found one where you were in a civil partnership with a very attractive young Spaniard named Carlos" interrupts Jack with a wink, striding into the boardroom. The lascivious leer fades as he meets Ianto's hostile glare.

"So, you finally got lucky when you found me," Ianto spits out, "There was no one to miss me. I may as well not have existed."

"It wasn't like that, Ianto," Gwen soothes, radiating concern as she takes his hand. "Your world was so bleak that Jack thought, we thought, we could offer you something better. You've got family, here, people who love you, people who..." her voice trails off again as she takes in the pain in Ianto's eyes.

"But they're not my family, are they? They're his. And how could I go and introduce myself now? How could I explain, when to them I've been dead for a year?" he demands, voice raw and husky with emotion.

Gwen shoots Jack a desperate look, not knowing how to answer this. They hadn't had any time to discuss the implications yesterday, because as soon as they had found this Ianto, Jack had set about the preparations for his rescue mission like a man possessed. He is no help now, either; leaning back against the door frame and staring intently at the floor. To anyone who didn't know him well it would seem a casual pose, but Gwen recognises his distress in the set of his jaw.

Heedless of her predicament, Ianto breaks the awkward moment with another question: "Are they all okay? The kids, I mean? Mica. David. They weren't taken, were they? They weren't part of the ten percent?"

"It's alright, Ianto, they're all fine. That didn't happen here, thanks in no small part to you. I mean..." she corrects herself after receiving a glare from the man in front of her, "I mean, the other version of you. Our Ianto," she adds, softly. _This must be so painful for Jack,_ Gwen thinks, looking over at the silent figure in the doorway.

She is relieved when Ianto changes focus.

"So what else did you find out about me? Did you check my work appraisals? My medical records? What if there was something wrong with me?"

Something in his tone alerts Gwen. _This is significant,_ she thinks. _What did we miss in our haste to bring him back here?_

"No, nothing like that. We didn't have time, and anyway, that would have been prying into confidential information," but even to her, the excuse sounds hollow. She ponders how to draw out more from Ianto, to find out what exactly is troubling him. _Beyond being kidnapped and brought to a science fiction style lair filled with oddballs, of course._

Her musings are interrupted by a loud voice and footsteps pounding up the metal stairs outside.

"I don't believe it, Gwen, he's only gone and filled another one! It bloody honks! And this is definitely your turn to change him." Rhys appears at the door with a rather annoyed looking Aeris in his arms, struggling to hold him in a way that won't squash the contents of his nappy out the sides.

Ianto rises, muttering: "I'd better get back to reception."

Jack steps around Rhys and makes a hasty retreat to his office.

Gwen sighs, as she is handed one cute, but very smelly baby.

*****

8pm, _but it could be anytime in this windowless dungeon,_ Ianto thinks, rolling his head to relieve the tension caused by hours hunched at the keyboard. He has finally got his medical records forged and uploaded to the NHS database, helped by the rather clever Hub software. Letting out a sigh of relief, he pushes his chair away from the screen and rises. He can make an appointment with his new GP first thing. He'll find an excuse to get away for half an hour.

On his way back to his room, he hears a strange, rushing noise. Spins round, but it sounds the same. Inside his head. Must be.

Then the first shock hits him, a sharp, electrical pulse through his brain. Astoundingly painful. Ianto puts his hand out to the wall for support, concentrating on breathing steadily. It wouldn't do to panic right now. If he can just make it through the night, he'll be back on the medication in the morning. Focusing on that, trying to stay positive against the rising tide of terror, he stumbles along the corridor, fumbles with the lock and finally collapses on his bed.


	7. Chapter 7

The man on the bed stares up at his reflection, trying to tell himself that it will be okay. That he can get up, get showered, shaved, dressed, walk down the corridor and make coffee. But the mirror man doesn't look like he could cope with that: dark circles ring his despairing eyes, beads of perspiration cover his forehead, the nails of his right hand compulsively tear at his left wrist, leaving fresh, red scratches on the already disfigured skin. All night he has lain there, sleeping fitfully, tossed between waking and sleeping nightmares.

Another mind shock paralyses him; stabbing deep into his head and momentarily erasing everything but the pain. They are coming more frequently now, and he has started to welcome them for the relief they give him from his torturous thoughts.

With a supreme effort of will, Ianto rolls over and pushes himself up on one elbow. _So far so good._ After a few deep breaths he manages to push down the sweat soaked sheets, then to move his leaden limbs so that his legs are over the edge of the bed and his feet in contact with the smooth, cool floorboards. _You can do this, come on._

He rises unsteadily, swaying like he's just spent too long spinning on a fairground ride. A few staggering steps take him to the en suite shower room.

He will get to work on time, even if it kills him.

*****

Today, sitting at his desk waiting for Ianto to arrive with coffee, Jack can't keep his mind focused on anything. Gwen has just phoned to say they are running late, and he is painfully aware that it is just him and Ianto, alone down here. He doesn't trust himself to behave professionally, but tries his best to look like he is working. The words on the page in front of him dance, and reform themselves into strange shapes. Images flash before him: Ianto smirking with raised eyebrows; Ianto knotting his tie and tucking in his shirt; Ianto pushing him against a wall; Ianto sleeping, curled up beside him; Ianto fussing with the contents of his fridge; Ianto closing his eyes and leaning in towards him; Ianto holding a stopwatch...

The flashbacks fade as the quiet, erratic knocking on the door grows more insistent.

"Come in," he calls, fighting to keep his tone businesslike, but worried it came out as a croak.

Keeping his eyes down again, remembering to breathe. Listening to the steps getting closer.

The mug lands on the table with a crash, hot coffee slopping out and over the heap of papers.

Jack leaps up as Ianto's knees buckle and he falls to the floor, eyes rolling up in their sockets. He covers the distance between them in an instant, an incoherent wail filling the room which he suddenly realises is coming from him. Dropping to his knees, he gathers up the young man in his arms and squeezes him tight, his body shuddering as the wail is released.

He needs to think. _What do I do? Check for a pulse?_

Pulling up Ianto's left sleeve, Jack's fingers make contact with the livid scar and he pulls them back as if burnt. _What's this?_ Made clumsy in panic, tearing out the buttons, he pulls the cuff open and bares Ianto's arm up to the elbow. There's only one explanation for a cut like that, starting thin and straight at the wrist and growing wide, jagged as it reaches the elbow.

"Oh God, Ianto, what have you done to yourself?" he whispers, chilled at the thought of so much pain and despair. As his breath catches in his throat, he remembers what he needs to check for: breathing.

Bending his face down over Ianto's, he can feel warm breath on his cheeks and lips. As relief washes through him, he draws closer to those soft, pink lips, his body moving without any conscious control. Before he knows what he is doing, Jack is kissing the haggard face, kissing away the lines of worry on Ianto's forehead, the dark crescents under his eyes; kissing those lips he has missed so sorely. Losing himself in that familiar taste and scent...

Brought back to himself by a slight tensing in the body he's embracing, Jack looks down into a pair of wide, blue eyes. "Ianto," he exhales, "Ianto, are you alright?"

"Help me," he whispers. "I need to see a doctor."

*****

Sitting in the waiting room, Ianto stares at the clock on the wall, willing the minute hand to move around faster. The man beside him also seems impatient, tapping on his chair with the hand that isn't clutching Ianto's. The hand that is currently anchoring him; stopping him from sliding deeper into panic. The hand that has only let go of his for the duration of the journey here, a hair-raising race across the city centre in the SUV. Jack had wanted to take him to A only yielding to Ianto's assurance that he just needed a GP when Ianto took hold of his hand.

_Why did I do that?_ he wonders, looking down at the strong, capable hand squeezing his. _How could I trust this man, after what he's done?_

But in a moment of need he had reached out for help, reached out to the only person there. To the man whose eyes were radiating concern, and something deeper than that. Something Ianto remembered seeing in Lisa's eyes. Something that looked like devotion.

"Mr. Jones, Doctor Evans will see you now. Room 5," the receptionist calls out, pointing towards one of the blank pine doors.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Jack asks softly.

"No, I'd rather do this on my own," he replies, moving his hand and wondering why he feels so bereft when it is released.

He rises, steadier now help is immanent. Walks to the door then hesitates, looking back at Jack, who is staring at him with that deep something in his eyes again. Ianto gulps, forces himself to look away, then knock on the door.


	8. Chapter 8

The passenger door of the SUV opens, and a pale, exhausted-looking young man clutching a white paper bag and a bottle of mineral water to his chest collapses into the seat beside Jack. He begins to tear at the bag in his desperation to reach the contents. Several small cardboard boxes spill out of the rip, one falling down between the two seats.

Jack watches Ianto's trembling fingers struggling with the packet as he reaches down to pick up the fallen medicine.

"Let me," he offers, or rather commands, as it upsets him to see the usually deft and elegant hands reduced to such clumsy fumbling. "How many do you need?" he asks, popping one of the small white tablets out of the blister pack.

"Two," comes the whispered answer, then: "Thanks," as he takes them from Jack's outstretched palm.

Jack watches him wash the tablets down with long gulps of water, closing his eyes and leaning back against the headrest. After this, Ianto visibly relaxes, breathing deeply and letting his shoulders fall; hands resting on his thighs. Jack finds it hard to tear his eyes away, as despite the pallor and lines of fatigue etched on his brow, he is still a beautiful vision. He yearns to stroke the stray lock of hair back off Ianto's forehead; to hold him and whisper comforting nonsense into his ear; to kiss those succulent lips again and again...

_For God's sake, get a grip on yourself, this isn't helping. _ And in an attempt to quell his over-active imagination, he finds himself studying the packet in his hands.

_Seroxat, 20 mg._ Where does he know that name from? What are they for?

A sudden recollection: "Anti-depressants! Hell, Ianto, you had me so worried! I thought it was something serious," but even as he voices his relief, he realises that he's making a mistake. Meeting the wounded glare from the man in the passenger seat, he tries to make amends: "Oh God, I'm sorry, that came out all wrong. I was just..." Jack flounders, searching the face before him for absolution. "I was worried that I might lose you again," he adds softly.

Ianto is still staring at him, and Jack has the feeling that he is being judged. He tries to stay calm, to keep his face open and trustworthy. Evidently he succeeds.

Sighing deeply, Ianto looks out of the windscreen at the row of windswept trees before them. Then with a subdued voice, he begins: "It started after Canary Wharf. I'd lost everything: Lisa, my friends, my job. I couldn't sleep or leave the flat. I was a mess, but somehow I managed to pull myself out of it. Rhiannon helped," and with this there is a small, affectionate smile. "I moved back here for a few months, got a bit of counselling and eventually felt ready to go back to London. I had a job offer from a company I used to temp for; tedious work with dull people but I managed to cope with it for over a year."

Afraid to break the fragile trust, Jack forces himself to stay silent and still.

Ianto looks down at his hands, voice dropping to barely above a whisper: "That was when Cardiff went. It was too much for me. I kept having panic attacks. I didn't have anything left to live for." A shudder runs through his body. After a few deep breaths he continues: "After I got out of hospital I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and they put me on these, with a course of psychotherapy. That was well over a year ago, and I'm still on the highest dose you can safely take."

He seems to have finished, so Jack dares a question: "And the collapse this morning? Was that just because you missed a dose?"

Nodding, Ianto whispers: "You're not meant to stop taking them suddenly. You get all sorts of horrible symptoms. It brought back my panic attacks."

Sighing, Jack leans back in his seat and stares out at that row of trees, mesmerised by their dancing in the cold breeze. So much pain and sorrow for one man to cope with. He wants to help, but isn't sure what will be welcome. _I need to be the understanding boss, a friend, nothing more,_ he tells himself. _This is going to be really difficult._

"So, is there anything else I should know? As your employer?" he adds hastily, not wanting to seem like he is prying any further into private territory. "Are there any side-effects that might prevent you from fulfilling your duties?" _Oh hell, now I sound like some kind of officious creep. _But much to his surprise, the other man laughs. A short, sardonic chuckle, but still laughter.

"I'll be fine on these," shaking the packet of tablets, voice more confident now, "There are a few side-effects," he raises an elegant eyebrow, "but nothing that would interfere with my performance at work."

"You're sure?" Jack asks, "You won't get any more panic attacks? It can get pretty stressful at the Hub sometimes."

"I can imagine," Ianto responds, then pauses, staring into the distance. Moments pass before he turns to look closely at Jack, and continues with a soft voice: "Look, I'll make you a deal. If you keep all this to yourself, then I'll tell you if I'm in danger of having a relapse. I don't want Gwen and Rhys thinking I'm some sort of mentally unstable screw-up."

"Okay, that sounds like a fair deal to me," Jack agrees, eyes widening as Ianto stretches out his hand towards him. Those long fingers brush his as he takes back the packet of tablets, burning Jack's skin where they make contact.

Captain Jack Harkness swallows, clenches his jaw muscles and very deliberately calms his breathing to something more appropriate. His skin still tingles, tantalising him with possibilities he doesn't really want to think about right now. Not when he needs to concentrate on driving.

"Let's get back to work; you can make up for spilling my coffee by making me some more," he suggests, and glancing over at Ianto, he is rewarded with a small, but warm smile.


	9. Chapter 9

It's no good, he just can't sleep. The events of the past month whirl through his head, a tumultuous time of new and challenging experiences. So many things that he doesn't know. So many strange references to people, aliens, technology, past events... He's starting to wake up to the world, as if he's been mentally and emotionally comatose for the last few years. Feeling stronger; feeling like he can cope; feeling like he might be a worthwhile human being and not just a waste of space. He is useful at last, part of a team he can rely on, and who rely on him. _Even if it is only for the more menial tasks, like feeding the Weevils, _he thinks, relieved that he has not been asked to venture outside of the Hub on a mission. He's not ready for the outside world. Not yet.

_It hasn't all been routine, though,_ and he reminds himself of the way Jack and Rhys had both hugged him on their return to the Hub yesterday. They were genuinely grateful for the information he had relayed from the computer to them through his bluetooth. Information they said had saved their lives. It had given Ianto a strange sensation in his chest to be held in such esteem. A sensation he later recognised as joy.

_No, there's no doubt about it, this is a fascinating place to work._ Worth enduring Jack's advances for: those significant looks and charged body language that make him feel so confused and self-conscious; frustrated at his inability to respond in the way that Jack so obviously wants. Distressed at being forced into someone else's life.

Eventually, Ianto decides to get up and make himself a drink. Something sleep inducing. _Hot chocolate?_

Eyeing the row of cupboards, he realises that there are several he hasn't looked in yet, being far too busy getting to grips with his new duties to spend time in here. He doesn't really fancy getting into a suit at 2am. Maybe there are some more casual clothes here somewhere. Opening the one at the end, he is confronted with a stack of wooden, lidded crates and a few random objects leaning against them. Of course; the other Ianto's belongings. He looks at his old school hockey stick, wondering why that was here. He hasn't played hockey since he was a teenager. Maybe the alternate version of him was more sporty.

But he doesn't want to contemplate the other Ianto now. Doesn't want to ponder all the ways they might be different... or the same. Not when there are so many other thoughts already preventing sleep.

Opening the next cupboard, he finds something more useful. Some shelves with folded clothing on them. He pulls out a pair of dark blue jeans and a deep purple, v-neck long-sleeved top. Perfect for a night-time stroll through the Hub.

*****

Walking quietly into the main cavern, Ianto is alarmed to see a figure in the kitchen. _Why does that man have to be everywhere? Always here, always watching me._

He takes a moment to be the watcher himself: observing Jack's behaviour when he thinks himself alone. The broad shoulders are slumped, head hanging down as he fiddles half-heartedly with the coffee machine. The close fitting white t-shirt emphasises the muscles in the other man's back and Ianto finds his eyes drawn down to where the braces hang down over a pair of pert buttocks. He gulps, wondering what Jack sees when he looks at him.

He can hear irritable muttering, and what might be alien curse words. _ What is he doing with Dilys?_ He can't tolerate watching his beloved coffee machine being handled so incompetently, and needs to distract himself from thoughts of Jack's body.

"Do you need a hand with that, Jack?" he calls, striding over to where his employer stands; blue eyes momentarily startled before they adopt their usual, charming expression.

"Why, Ianto Jones, just the man I wanted to see! Perhaps you can sort out this obstinate contraption," he flicks a hand towards the machine, his hungry eyes travelling over Ianto's slim frame.

"Don't call her that, Dilys has feelings, don't you darling?" he soothes, stroking the sleek chrome curves. Noticing Jack's amused gaze, he blushes, changing the subject: "Coffee at two in the morning? Don't you ever sleep? Don't you have a home to go to?" He tamps down the freshly ground coffee and inserts the filter holder into place. Pulling down the pump handle, he inhales the rich aroma of the espresso; attempting to block out the intoxicating musk of Jack's aftershave.

"Something happened to me a while ago. It's all a bit complicated to explain, but apparently I'm a fixed point in space and time, and for some reason this means I don't need much sleep," Jack explains, moving closer to Ianto so that their hips brush together as he leans over his shoulder.

"From what I understand, it means you can't die either," Ianto ventures, the quiet ambiance of the Hub's night allowing him to broach the subject he finds most fascinating about this enigmatic man.

"I can die, alright. I just can't stay dead for very long."

Pondering this, Ianto allows himself to speculate what it would be like to love someone who could never die. Someone who had travelled across universes to find him. _No, not me. A different Ianto Jones. I must remember that._

He realises with a shock that Jack's hands are resting on his hips, his body pressed against Ianto's back. _This can't happen,_ he tells himself. _You have to tell him before it goes any further._

"Uh, Jack, there's something you need to know about me," he begins, trying to pull away but finding himself trapped between the other man and the counter. "My medication, it does have a few side effects," he sighs, not wanting to have to admit this but left with no choice.

Relieved to feel himself released, Ianto turns and searches Jack's face for an excuse not to have to carry on. But there is such sympathy and concern etched onto those handsome features that he finds the courage to continue: "The main one being that I don't have any, er, feelings of that nature anymore," hesitating, embarrassed about using the correct term. "My sex drive, Jack. It's completely gone. You're wasting your time on me." And although this is a slight exaggeration, it may as well be true.

Jack walks away from him, placing his hands on the counter opposite and sinking down his head. "I'm so sorry... I thought after you got back on your meds, I mean, I'd hoped..." he falters, voice cracking with strong emotion. Pausing for what seems like an eternity, he finally pulls himself upright, and turns to face Ianto. His eyes are deep wells of sorrow, and Ianto feels himself drowning, tugged down into a dark, lonely chasm.

Finally Jack breaks eye contact, heaves a deep sigh and looks down at the floor between them. "Well, I guess your libido is none of my business, really," he mumbles, blushing slightly.

"Oh, come on Jack, I'm not a fool," Ianto retorts, his exasperation finally released by Jack's evident discomfort. "You didn't kidnap me from another universe just because you wanted a decent cup of coffee! Well, I'm telling you now, you won't get what you're after. And I'd appreciate it if you stopped trying to seduce me."

Jack seems to be absorbed in studying a scrap of paper on the floor, but the working of the muscles in his jaw betray his inner turmoil. Beginning to regret his harsh words, Ianto racks his brain for a way to cushion their impact. He didn't want to reduce Jack to this. But Jack beats him to it, visibly pulling himself together as he meets Ianto's gaze with a penetrating stare.

"I didn't realise I was being that obvious," drawls Jack, a wry smile gracing his lips but not his eyes.

"Well, if that's you trying to be subtle then I dread to think what you're like when you're not," Ianto huffs, hands on his hips.

Astonishingly, the other man begins to laugh, a genuine good humoured chuckle. And the sound is so infectious, that before he knows it, Ianto starts to snigger. As the laughter builds he starts to shake, leaning back against the counter and convulsing as all the tension in his body is released. As mental barricades are undermined; negative feelings washed away on a tide of endorphins. Jack looks to be in a similar state, bent double and howling, clutching at his stomach.

Eventually the flood subsides, leaving them both with streaming eyes and stupid grins.

"I'm sorry, Ianto, I've been such an idiot."

"That's okay. I think we understand each other now."

Jack picks up his espresso, downs it in one gulp.

"You were still worth rescuing, even if only for the coffee," he winks, leaving Ianto to watch as he walks away to his office.


	10. Chapter 10

"Ianto, get the restraints on its legs, Gwen, the arms. Rhys, I need you to help me hold it down!" Jack barks out orders as he struggles with the writhing creature in the medical bay. It shakes so fast, limbs thrashing out in all directions, that it is hard to make sense of its shape, other than it must be vaguely humanoid and a rather sickly lavender colour. An unearthly wail fills the the space, making the team want to cover their ears and start screaming themselves in sympathy.

Finally, after several minutes of dodging the wildly flailing limbs, not always successfully, they manage to clamp the creature down to the table. Ianto leans back against the wall, panting and rubbing at a particularly sore spot on his chest. He'll be black and blue tomorrow.

"Everyone okay?" Nods of assent. "Right, let's see what we've got," Jack says, approaching the twitching creature with what looks like suspiciously like glee.

_How does he do that?_ Ianto asks himself. _Why does he get such a kick out of danger?_ He supposes it must be a prerequisite for dashing hero types. And Jack certainly is dashing...

Held down by the steel manacles, the creature looks like nothing more than a skinny girl, albeit one with pale purple skin and a head of short, worm-like silver tentacles. Her face is contorted in a rictus of pain, a low keening sound issuing from deep inside her. She is clothed in a short, glossy white dress which clings to her skin in a way that no terrestrial fabric could, revealing the map of veins and muscles underneath. In the centre of her dress, where the navel should be, a small metallic object protrudes. Ianto moves closer to see more clearly.

"So, Jack? What species are we dealing with here?" Gwen tries to grab their leader's attention back from the strange creature.

"I couldn't say. I've never seen one like this before," awe hushing his voice, a rapt expression accentuating his attractiveness. "Is that an implant, do you think?"

Ianto studies the metal disc on her stomach. There is a complex pattern of whorls and dots engraved on it. A pattern that seems oddly familiar. He reaches out a tentative hand and gently prods around the edge. The alien girl's body feels much harder than a human's would, but as far as he can tell the disc is a part of her rather than a decorative detail.

As he watches, the disc emits a puff of golden light and the girl begins that awful wailing again. Listening to it is torture, like having all the pain and sorrow in the universe pouring into your head. Pressing his hands to his ears, Ianto suddenly remembers where he recognises the pattern from. Something that came through the Rift a fortnight ago, not long after he and Jack cleared the air. A small metal bowl that didn't seem to have any purpose beyond the decorative. Maybe they were about to find out...

"I've had an idea," he blurts out, already running towards the archives where he locked the device away. Voices are calling him, demanding to know what he's doing but he ignores them, concentrating only on finding a way to help this suffering creature. Once in the archives he quickly locates the correct drawer, taking a moment to study the symbol in the bowl and confirm his hunch. Yes, they're exactly the same. And the concavity looks as if it would fit perfectly over the disc.

Bursting back into the medical bay and into a wall of sound, Ianto staggers, dropping to his knees just short of reaching the table. Gwen, Rhys and Jack are all on the floor, hands welded to their ears and bodies contorted with pain. He must get to the alien girl, _now_. Calling on deep reserves of willpower, Ianto pushes himself up, falling against the table holding the source of the noise. The girl is now shaking so fast it's impossible to focus on her, and gouts of golden light spurt out of the disc in her navel.

Worried that his eardrums are about to explode, but knowing he must keep hold of the bowl, Ianto uses his left hand to hold the girl down; the disc positioned between his thumb and forefinger. With a deft movement he locks the bowl onto the disc, praying that he is doing the right thing, that this will work.

The two pieces of metal lock together, and he can feel rather than hear the click. Then:

_silence._

A silence made loud by the ringing in their ears, but this is preferable to the deafening howl. Ianto looks down at the girl; she lies still, black eyes open and staring at him with an expression he chooses to interpret as grateful. Then they close, and she appears to fall into a deep sleep. The disc is no longer leaking energy. He's done it.

As normal hearing and breathing returns, the others groan and slowly find their feet again. Jack is the first to reach the table, and Ianto feels the weight and warmth of his hand on his shoulder.

"What did you do?" Jack breathes, his eyes fixed on the girl's navel, which now features a rather larger disc than before.

"Oh, just followed up a hunch. I remembered seeing that symbol on an object that came through the Rift recently," trying to sound casual while every part of his body tingles. _It's a reaction to the stress, it's definitely not Jack's hand that's doing that, _but even he is unconvinced by this explanation, as his shoulder seems to be on fire.

"Excellent work, Ianto," Jack beams at him, their eyes meeting at last.

And at that moment, Ianto knows that he would do anything to make Jack smile at him like that again.


	11. Chapter 11

The next hour is spent installing the unconscious girl in one of the new cells; a clean, well appointed room unlike the Weevil dungeons, and linking her up to monitoring systems that will alert Jack if there is any change in her condition. The four of them (well, five if you count Aeris, who is now peering out from the sling on Rhys' chest), stand in a row facing the plexiglass screen. It's hard to believe that such a young, innocent looking creature could have caused them so much trouble. Ianto finds himself deeply moved by her plight: plunged, confused and suffering into a new world. _Like I was,_ he muses, relieved that things have started to become easier, that his emotions seem to be balancing, his mood improving day by day.

"Now were finished up here, I think this calls for a celebration," their leader announces, his face splitting in a huge grin, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "How about a drink somewhere fancy? It's been a long time since we did that. I was thinking about that new place down by..." he trails off. "What did I say? You all look like I've suggested a trip down the sewers for an evening's Weevil hunting!"

"I'm sorry, Jack. We just need a quiet night in together. We get precious little family time as it is in this job." Although Gwen sounds like she regrets declining, the tender look she gives her husband shows where her priorities lie.

Rhys nods, putting his arm round her shoulders. "Sorry, Boss. Another time, maybe. Once you've found us some more help and we can get regular days off." There is a challenge in his voice, and Ianto observes Jack's response with interest.

Their employer's expression transforms from disappointment to sympathy. "Yeah, you're right. I know I ask too much of you all. I am on the case trying to find new staff, but it's not easy. They've got to be just right." He pauses, looking at Ianto who still looks worried. "Why don't you just get off home now."

After the Williams have departed, they stare at each other. Ianto trying to gather up the courage to share what's on his mind. He had promised, after all. And Jack had maintained his side of the bargain, keeping Ianto's breakdown a secret.

"So? Is the idea of having a drink with me that scary? I promise to behave myself," Jack adds, archly.

"It's not that," Ianto sighs, knowing full well that Jack can behave himself perfectly well when he wants to. He has been for the last couple of weeks, to the point where he's started to miss the flirting. He's going to have to tell him. He needs help with this one, and Jack is the only one he can trust. As he begins to speak, his right hand starts to worry at his left sleeve, pulling at the fabric of his cuff and rubbing at the skin of his left wrist.

"It's just, I can't do it. I can't walk past the end of the wharf. I've tried. Every day I try, but as soon as I'm out in public view I start to feel scared. I think that someone is going to recognise me, thinking I'm him, and then I'm going to have to explain why I'm not dead and they'll be thinking I'm someone else and I might not even know them and even if I did, I don't know what the other me was doing these last few years and then what if...." Ianto's babbled monologue comes to an abrupt end when his restless fingers are taken hold of by strong, smooth skinned hands, sending a shiver up his arms and through his body. As his hands are enveloped, he has that sensation of being anchored, protected by someone with strength enough for both of them. Eyes closed, he trembles, surrendering himself to the moment, whatever that might mean. Jack's thumbs trace circles over his palms, a motion Ianto finds inexplicably both soothing and stimulating.

"About that drink?" Ianto's dazed mind finally manages to find the right words. "I think I can make it to the bar, if you promise to keep hold of my hand." He opens his eyes, looking straight into Jack's.

"I've got a better idea," Jack suggests, a slow grin spreading over his face.

Not trusting himself to speak, Ianto stares into those twinkling blue eyes, willing the other man to continue but unsure of what it is he wants to hear.

Jack lets go of one of his hands and tugs him along the corridor with the other. "C'mon, Ianto, let's go for a meal. I know a lovely little Italian place, very cosy. My treat," he adds, looking at his companion with such affection that Ianto can't help but smile in acquiescence.

He lets himself be led, knowing that for now he is safe. For now, at least, he has found shelter. He should feel peaceful, so why is his heart hammering so wildly?


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you seriously telling me you've been living off takeaways for the last two months? How d'you manage to keep that fantastic complexion? And how do you get the dry cleaning done?" Jack ponders aloud, feasting his eyes on Ianto's exquisitely tailored clothing. His companion sits opposite him in the tiny booth, wearing a deep mauve shirt with a silvery tie and a charcoal pinstripe waistcoat. He had insisted on getting showered and changed before they left the Hub, saying his work suit smelt of Weevils. Jack decided to take the opportunity to do the same, putting on a dark blue long sleeved shirt, silver cuff links and a black waistcoat to match his trousers. It had felt like he was getting ready for a date. He wondered if that's what it was...

They had left the Hub via the elevator up to Roald Dahl Plass. Jack persuaded Ianto to try this, reasoning that the perception filter at the top would give him time to decide if he was ready to step out into public yet. _And more importantly,_ he thought, _the first time anyone tried that paving stone lift they tended to grab hold of the person they were with._ Jack spent the journey up in a kind of paradise, feeling the pressure of Ianto's arm through his and inhaling his evocative scent: a mixture of the resinous cedarwood essence he used to protect his suits from moth damage; a hint of spice from his cologne; and underlying all, the fragrance of his skin. A sweet, warm smell that reminded Jack of freshly mown hay. It brought other things to mind, too, but he had promised to behave himself so it was probably best not to dwell on them.

Once Ianto had decided he felt comfortable, they stepped down from the paving slab and made their way across the square. Jack was momentarily distressed when Ianto released his arm, only to find the other man's fingers lacing themselves through his. Surely that was a more intimate hand hold than was necessary under the circumstances? He studied Ianto's face, searching for a clue to his feelings, but he was gazing at the early evening revellers with a blank expression.

"Ianto? This restaurant we're going to? They'll know you there, but don't worry," he added, hastily, seeing the anxiety return to that cherished face: "They don't know anything about what happened. I chatted to Gino when I booked the table. Spun him a yarn about how we moved to London for a year's work assignment. Just let me do the talking for both of us." Jack finished in what he hoped was his most confident sounding voice. He wished he really felt that sure. The possibility of Ianto having a nervous breakdown over the pasta was not an eventuality he wanted to contemplate.

So now, here they were, waiting for their food to arrive. Bathed in candlelight, caressed by the soft guitar music, tantalised by the rich, tempting aromas drifting from the kitchens. Jack lets his eyes roam over Ianto's face, drinking in the sight of him as though parched. Their hands are still clasped, Jack's right hand in Ianto's left, lying across the table against the wall. Not wanting to let go, Jack ordered pizza, reasoning that he can eat this one handed without making too much mess. Now he's wondering if he can manage to reach a breadstick without setting his sleeve alight on the candle. And more to the point, would he be able to resist eating it in a seductive manner? _Maybe it's best not to risk it._

He realises with a start that Ianto is talking, and chastises himself for not paying attention. Something about how you can order everything you need in life over the internet. That it's no longer necessary to leave your home. Jack lets him finish, nods in what he hopes is an attentive way, then changes the subject to something more pressing.

"But what about your meds? Do you need me to escort you to the clinic anytime soon?"

"Uh, yeah, I might do. Well, thing is..." bowing his head in a guilty fashion, "I've, er, been cutting down on the dosage to make them last. So I didn't need to go back there. I want to come off them for good. I'm already down to half the dose I was on, and I reckon I should be shot of them in another month or so."

Jack's eyes widen in shock, as he ponders implications what he has just learnt. "Is it wise to do that by yourself? What about the side-effects? The withdrawal side-effects," he adds quickly, not wanting Ianto to think he means anything else.

"I've been okay, haven't I?"

"Yeah, well, I've no complaints about your performance at work. But what about this phobia of public spaces?" And this does really worry him, the prospect of looking after an agoraphobic Ianto. One who can't engage with the outside world. Although, and he hesitates to admit it even to himself, at least that way he can keep him safe from harm. _No, that's wrong,_ he chides, _that's too much like having a pet._

"I'm not so sure that's a phobia," Ianto begins after some reflection. "I think under the circumstances, it's quite a reasonable fear. I know nothing about myself on this world. I don't know what my upbringing was like, if I get on with my family, what jobs I had, what I was like as a person, what happened with Lisa, how I ended up with you..."

He is cut off by the arrival of the food: an enormous pile of tagliatelle with a creamy salmon sauce is set down in front of Ianto, making Jack's mouth water. His pizza doesn't look quite so appealing, but remembering why he chose it he squeezes Ianto's hand. They both keep silent, their eyes locked together as the red wine is poured into their glasses. Jack racks his brain for an appropriate toast.

"To getting better, and keeping promises," he ends up with, feeling it lacks the panache of his usual efforts. But Ianto seems satisfied, a faint smile curving those luscious lips as their glasses clink.

They eat in a companionable silence, giving Jack time to regret all the missed opportunities for quiet times like this with his Ianto. _Why didn't I take him out more often?_ The truth was, to begin with, he was more interested in getting his clothes off than getting to know him. _Still,_ he grins, _that was as much his fault as mine. He started it, after all._

Maybe he was being given another chance. A chance to do things properly. _To behave myself._ He gives a rueful smile at the irony of Captain Jack Harkness having to behave himself. _With Ianto of all people._

Yet even as he thinks this, he is startled to find his companion's knee rest against his.

He doesn't move his leg. Neither does Ianto, who is carefully winding tagliatelle round his fork and looks the picture of innocence.

_Just what is he playing at?_


	13. Chapter 13

It's a mild June evening, the sky a delicate pink wash which suffuses all the colours in the city below. Across the vast expanse of Cardiff's Millennium Square, two striking men stroll slowly, hand in hand. They make a handsome couple, attracting admiring glances from other pedestrians. Both tall and broad shouldered. Both dark haired. Both dressed in perfectly fitted dark suits. Both silent, seemingly lost in their own thoughts.

Ianto turns his head to look at the man walking next to him, admiring the way the rosy light tints his features, casting a glow on those sculpted cheekbones, adorable dimples, expressive lips... He needs to know what he is to this man. What he means. Whether he is just a second best, a replacement model that's turned out to be faulty.

"Am I like him?" he ventures, frightened of the answer but compelled to ask.

"Like him?" Jack smiles, eyes shining a luminous blue in the fading light. "You are him, in every way that matters."

Ianto thinks about this for a moment. "What ways are those, then?"

"Well, let's see. For a start, you look the same, you sound the same, you feel the same," squeezing his hand, "you smell the same... You even taste the same." This last said with a wicked grin.

"Uh, Jack, how would you know that?"

"Oh, I've been licking the handles of my coffee cups when you leave the room. One of my many bizarre fetishes."

Chuckling at this, Ianto mulls over what Jack has said. Those are just the external characteristics. What about character? Personality traits? All those little faults and foibles that make you love someone?

"If you really want to know what he was like, and how similar you are, there's only one way to find out." Jack stops walking and pulls Ianto round to face him. His face is serious now, the eyes dark and unfathomable.

Ianto waits, holding his breath.

"You need to read his diaries."

*****

They take the lift down again. Ianto clutches at Jack's arm again, inhaling deeply that heady, spicy scent he gives off. It seems stronger now than earlier, the fragrance working it's way from his nostrils through his body and threatening to send him into a swoon. He stumbles slightly, holding onto Jack for support.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jack's voice radiates concern. Before Ianto knows what is happening, a strong arm is supporting his waist, while Jack's other hand cups his chin. Their bodies are almost touching and Ianto knows he needs to breathe, but can't concentrate on anything but Jack's proximity. Eventually his body decides to take a deep breath for him, but his nostrils fill with that intoxicating essence again and his knees start to buckle.

"Ianto Jones, I do believe you're drunk!" Amusement sparkles in Jack's eyes.

"I'm not!" But he could be a little tipsy, not being used to alcohol these days. "It's your aftershave. It's really overpowering," he adds apologetically, not wanting to seem critical.

Jack looks hurt. "Don't you like it?"

Sensing that the answer is important for some reason he doesn't comprehend, Ianto chooses his words carefully. "It's not that I don't like it," drawing in more scented air, analysing the complex blend of musk, spice and earthy sweetness. "Actually, it's gorgeous. It just has a bit of a strange effect on me," he finishes lamely.

"Pleased to hear it, it's kinda meant to," Jack grins. "It's not like I can change the way I smell, anyway. That's just me. 51st century pheromones and all."

Understanding dawns on Ianto. "Wow..." he breathes, closing his eyes. _Just imagine, Jack must smell like that straight from the shower._

With a start, Ianto realises that the lift reached the bottom some time ago; that he is being held by muscular arms, while his imagination is busy painting him pictures of what Jack would look like stepping from the shower. He forces himself to hold Jack's gaze, while mutely daring the other man to do something. Anything. He doesn't trust his own judgement right now.

But Jack seems to feel the same way, and so they stand there for what seems like an eternity, blue eyes locked in an intimate embrace. The world shrinks to a bubble of air around them.

_It's going to have to be me that makes a move,_ he realises, with trepidation. Mouth dry, breathing ragged, he licks his lips without conscious intent. Jack's pupils dilate in response, so that his eyes become dark pools and Ianto feels himself falling forward into them.

Their lips meet for an instant that lasts forever; a mere graze of contact like the caress of a breeze. And then, even as Ianto reaches out to pull him closer he finds Jack retreating; his arms letting go, his face turning away.

_What did I do wrong?_

---

"You need to go now," Jack insists, voice thick with emotion. "Go back to your room, lock yourself in and read those diaries. They're in the cupboard."

Seeing the stricken expression on Ianto's face, Jack curses himself for his lack of control. He shouldn't have let that kiss happen. It would only make this harder.

"Please. Go. Now."

"I don't want to." he whispers, such confusion in his eyes.

"You don't know what you're letting yourself in for, Ianto. You know hardly anything about me, what kind of a man I am. You're still not well. You need to find some things out before you know what you're doing, find out what being with me was like for him. I'm not the easiest man to love. I've done some awful things in my time, things you might not be able to forgive me for," hating himself for saying this, but proud that he hasn't succumbed to the maddening desire that even now threatens to take him over. To make him push Ianto to the ground and ravish him.

Captain Jack Harkness musters every last ounce of willpower he possesses, and turns away from the man he adores; marches off to his office, slamming the door behind him.

Waiting, consciously slowing his breathing... clearing his mind... Waiting until he's sure that his orders have been followed.

Feeling dangerous, barely in control of his mutinous body, Jack broods on how to make it through the night. Because he knows exactly how to override the lock on Ianto's door. Knows precisely what to do to make Ianto scream with pleasure. And he can't let himself. Can't take advantage of him like that. Can't risk having Ianto hate him for it when he finds out about what he did to Lisa.

Because rising above the tumult of lust is a clear, bright longing. A yearning for Ianto to forgive him, redeem him and love him for who he is, with all his myriad faults.

_And he doesn't want to settle for anything less._


	14. Chapter 14

The spines of the journals face upwards, arranged inside the wooden case like they would be on a bookshelf. Starting from the left, the black card covers of artist's sketch-pads, dog-eared and battered as if bruised by the sharp edges of the words within. Moving right, the cheap card covers give way to imitation leather, then finally to the real thing once his income had risen high enough to meet his tastes.

There are a lot more of them than Ianto remembers from his own life. Not wanting to wallow in his depression, he had pretty much given up writing over the last couple of years. An occasional entry on significant dates. A picture pasted in; the haunting black and white images he favoured seeming to sum up his state of mind so much more eloquently than awkward words ever could.

This other Ianto didn't seem to have had a problem filling journals. The records of his life were straining at the bindings, causing the covers to bulge outwards from the pressure of the memories within. They draw his hand to them, hovering above whilst trying to decide where to begin making sense of a life he didn't lead. Hesitating, then moving back to the first of the sketch-pads, elegant fingers drawing it out from the crate.

_Begin at the beginning..._

He collapses wearily back into the armchair and opens the cover.

_This is the top secret diary of Ianto Jones, Special Agent, aged 12 years, 9 months. It will self destruct if read by anyone else. You have been warned!_

And much to his surprise, Ianto smiles indulgently. _Maybe this won't be such a chore after all._

*****

Pacing out the length of his office for what must be the thousandth time tonight, Jack curses his treacherous feet in as many different alien tongues as he can remember. They keep threatening to take him out of the door, down the corridors, to the arms he aches for. And it's still not even midnight. So many hours to get through before the routine of a working day to distract him. How has he let this happen to him? Captain Jack Harkness, interstellar philanderer, reduced to a stew of unfulfilled cravings by one inexperienced young Welshman. It didn't bear thinking about, really. He should never have let him get so close to the real Jack, so deep under his skin. And whilst part of him wishes he had never embarked on this foolish mission to save his lover, another, more powerful part just wants a chance to put things right. To spend just a few more years together; hell, just a few more months would do. To say those words he should have said so many times but never let himself. That simple phrase he feared.

If it weren't for the unconscious alien girl in the cell, he would have no qualms about leaving the Hub. About cruising the bars of Cardiff until he finds some willing stranger to satisfy his body's hunger, if not his heart's. But it's not fair to leave her here, to wake up terrified, alone in a strange world. He contemplates cuffing himself to the railings, but then he would have the same problem of not being there if she wakes; not to mention some tricky explaining to do in the morning. Besides which, the last time he was hand-cuffed to the railings was by Ianto, and those memories certainly wouldn't help to calm him down.

Then, an idea strikes. _ Yes, that will work! _

Jack turns on his heels and strides quickly off in the direction of the cells.

*****

_This is just too strange. Everything is the same. Every last detail. It's me._

Transported back to puberty in Newport, the endless angst and troubled desires. That feeling of being pulled in two opposite directions and having no clear path to follow. The suspicion that choosing either path would lead to future heartache and confusion. The dearth of useful role-models around him, growing up on an estate where real men got drunk and beat their wives behind closed doors. A place where book-reading was treated with scorn at best. The loss of his father. Even the discovery that there were other men like him didn't really help. _I mean, Morrissey, Michael Stipe, Brett Anderson, David Bowie... God, who would want to model himself on any of them?_

And so he built up his armour of bland decorum and anonymous suits, with a defensive layer of spiky sarcasm to deter anyone who tried to get too close. And he took the first available route out of that place, relying on his wits to find work in London, but ultimately losing all direction once out in the wider world. So many options available. So much courage required to take them. So much easier to be on your own, self sufficient. Not having to choose one way or the other.

_Until Torchwood._

_Until Lisa._

At this point, where the journals transform into fine leather, he gives up for the night, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He can't handle reading about Lisa right now. Not while the emotions of his teenage years are still fresh in his mind; not to mention his confusion about the events of the day. He sighs deeply, raking his hands back through his unruly hair, unable to reconcile his conflicting feelings about that baffling man. That man who draws him like a magnet, leading him on then turning him away at the last moment. Is this anger he feels? Pity? Humiliation? Desire?

He needs some exercise before sleep will calm the maelstrom in his head and heart. A walk in the corridors.

His feet lead him inexorably towards the cells.


	15. Chapter 15

Jack rests his elbows on the edge of the bed, staring at the comatose alien girl and wondering what her name might be. Ianto would have thought of something suitable by now. His Ianto, that is.

He's been locked into the cell for at least two hours now, and is starting to calm down a little. It had just been such an aphrodisiac to know that this Ianto wanted him. And such a long time since he had been intimate with anyone. Since those terrible days when everything had been taken from him.

"Jack," he hears, uttered with surprise, and for just a moment he imagines that everything is back as it should be. But it's not. This isn't his Ianto, after all.

He stares at the imposter, noting the fatigue that creases his brow, the tousled hair, the loosened tie, the unbuttoned waistcoat, the wildness in his eyes. _Damn him, why does he look even more hot when he's dishevelled?_

Ianto continues to stare at him, arms crossed defensively, making Jack aware of his own, less than ship-shape appearance. He discarded the cuff-links and waistcoat earlier, rolling his sleeves up and unbuttoning the dressy shirt; and he's spent most of the last couple of hours with his head in his hands, so he wouldn't be at all surprised if his hair is standing up on end. Also, he feels naked without the reassuring presence of his Vortex Manipulator; the connection between his past and present existences. But it would have let him override the door controls so it had to go. He can see it lying on the floor across the corridor, and hopes the other man doesn't notice his eyes flick over there.

Ianto breaks the stare to look at the door panel. "You've locked yourself in, I see." A statement that Jack cannot deny. Those penetrating blue eyes lock onto him again, shining with unasked questions and making Jack squirm with embarrassment.

"You did this to me," he retorts, already regretting taking a hostile tone, but not wanting to lose face.

"Funny, I don't remember that," Ianto's voice maintains an even tone, betraying nothing. He looks down at the floor. "Last thing I remember was trying to kiss you, and you pushing me away."

"I gave you my reasons." But had he? Jack isn't sure how much sense he had made, having been overwhelmed by his own arousal.

"You told me something about needing to find out more about you and him. Told me to read my diaries." Ianto looks up for a brief moment, then down at the base of the plexiglass screen again.

Unable to breathe, poised unbearably on the edge of a revelation. Stepping closer to the plastic screen to see more clearly. "And have you?" Jack asks in a hesitant voice, unwilling to reveal how important this is to him.

Ianto's face falls, the weariness dragging his shoulders down. "I made a good start. My teenage years. And that's the thing, see? They're my teenage years, exactly. Everything I did, everything I felt, everything I fantasised about. It's all there."

"And that alarms you?" _Surely that's a good thing? Isn't it?_

"It bloody well terrifies me, if you want the honest truth, Jack. Because it means that I'm him. And I don't know if I want his life. Don't know if I want you or any of this, anymore." He gestures wildly at the surroundings, voice deepening with passion, eyes finally meeting Jack's. "What the fuck am I supposed to think, Jack? One minute you're throwing yourself at me, making me think you've brought me here just for a shag. Then, when I finally respond, you act like I've done something wrong. Like I'm some stupid kid who doesn't know what he wants. Well, I'm telling you, Jack, there's all sorts of things you don't know about me. You told me I need to find out about you? No, it's you who needs to find out who I am. You need to listen to me. Me and him, we may have started off the same, but our last few years have been totally different. You know nothing about any of that."

"But, you told me about it. That day I took you to the surgery." But what exactly had Ianto told him then? Jack struggles to remember, placing his hands on the screen and leaning so that his forehead rests against it. Right now he really wants to be able to offer comfort to this troubled young man, but without being able to touch him he has to rely on clumsy words. So much easier to wrap your arms around someone, cradle his head, offer yourself as a tower of strength.

"Oh, and you really think three years of my life can be summed up in a couple of sentences? For someone who's been around for such a long time, you don't know much about other people, do you?" The bitterness warps his voice, and Jack desperately wants to help him, to restore the melodious tones of earlier in the evening. To make him smile and laugh again. To regain that trust.

He begins softly, gently. "I'm sorry, Ianto. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just... Look, there's something I did that I'm not proud of but I had to do it. It devastated him but he forgave me. And I need you to do that too. Read on and find out. Before anything else..." Ianto moves closer, standing mere inches away on the other side of the screen. Jack falters as he recognises the raw need in his eyes. _But what does he need? Someone to trust? A father figure? A friend? A lover? Does he even know?_

For long moments they stand there, in silent communication. Both reaching out in their loneliness. Trying to have faith in each other. Hoping to be worthy of trust.

"I think you can let me out now," Jack whispers, the fire in him dampened but not extinguished.

Ianto nods once and moves over to the door controls. "You still haven't explained why you're in there," he proffers, tapping at the keypad and glancing back at Jack.

"Trying to keep you out of danger," he grins, feeling some of his usual charm return. "I was pacing around like a wild animal on heat. Couldn't have been held responsible for my actions."

"I see," Ianto responds, facing the keypad, expression and voice neutral but hooking his thumbs into his trouser pockets. "And I'm safe now, am I? Well, I suppose I should be grateful for that, then." A wry smile twists his lips as he reaches up to press the last button; the door sliding open with an almost imperceptible hiss.

Jack steps out of the cell and stands there, hands on his hips, wondering what to do. Ianto stands before him in the same pose, as if sizing him up. Closing his eyes, Ianto gives a huge sigh and lets his arms drop as if exhausted. And without thinking, Jack closes the distance and gathers him up into a soothing embrace. Ianto doesn't resist, and after a moment he raises his arms to hold Jack too. Their chins rest on each other's shoulders, the sides of their heads touching.

"Don't worry, Ianto, we'll work it out somehow."

They stay like this for several minutes, silent, unmoving, before pulling apart and going their separate ways.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:** For some reason the alert didn't go out yesterday, so if you missed it, please read chapter 15 before this one!

_Beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep...._

The insistent noise of the alarm eventually manages to worm its way into Ianto's dreams, dragging him reluctantly into yet another morning at the Hub. He rises stiffly, pausing to rub at the muscles of his neck before getting to his feet. His tongue feels like it's stuck to the roof of his mouth and his head pounds in sync with the alarm. _Just a hangover, nothing to worry about. Nothing like those mornings after I..._

And then the memories of the previous evening start to unscroll, showing him what he did, what he said. _Oh God, I didn't did I?_ Mortified, he sits back down, head in his hands, trying to remember exactly what did happen after the meal. _I made a complete fool of myself,_ he decides. Then thinks again. What did Jack say? _No, he made a fool of me._ The burgeoning anger obliterates any remaining self-pity. _How dare he? How dare he turn me down after all the come-ons he's made?_

Propelled by this violent temper, Ianto gets himself ready for work in record time. He's going for a walk first. Outside. And he doesn't need anyone to hold his hand.

*****

"Aha! Gotcha, you little trickster. Oh, you're cute, too! Now, come to Uncle Jack, why don't you..."

The computer screen shows police mugshots of a surly looking young man with spiky bleached hair, too many earrings and dazzling green eyes. The defiant pout can't mask his essential beauty, the planes of his face catching the light to full advantage. Gwen peers over Jack's shoulder to read the information on the police database. So this is the elusive Rivster, the hacker who'd been trying to break into the Hub's computer mainframe; and who had now successfully infiltrated the MOD's defence systems and caused massive damage with some ingeniously designed viruses. Turns out his real name is Sean Baxter and he lives in Crawley, West Sussex, with his mum. _Why was that always the way with technical geniuses?_

"Are you sure about this, Jack?" Gwen feels decidedly sceptical. No matter how much she wants more staff to share the workload and help keep Rhys out of danger, she doesn't think she likes the look of this potential colleague. Not only is he very young, but he seems to have a major attitude problem. _Mind you,_ she thinks, _I didn't much like the look of Owen when I first met him, either._

"No Gwen, I won't be sure until I've had a chance to check him out in the flesh, but judging by his abilities and these pictures he could be a real asset," her boss says, grinning salaciously.

Gwen rolls her eyes. "That's hardly equal opportunities, is it? Making important staffing decisions based on how much you fancy them."

"D'you have a better system in mind? Mine seems to have worked pretty well so far," Jack winks at her with a decidedly lecherous smile.

"Behave yourself, Jack Harkness!"

"Yes Ma'am," he replies, saluting and failing to keep a straight face. He rises and grabs his coat from the stand. "I may be gone all day, depending on how long it takes me to pull rank with the MOD stiffs." He looks out of the office door towards the kitchen area with a strange expression that Gwen can't interpret. _Peeved, perhaps?_ "I don't know where Ianto is. He's normally making coffee by now. When he gets here could you tell him to get to work in the archives. He needs to learn a bit more about this place. And ask him to look in on our new guest in the cells. Oh, and give him some time off if he looks tired and it's quiet enough. I think he may have had a late night."

Gwen stares after her boss, curiosity consuming her. _What exactly is going on between those two?_ Ianto seems to have taken on his new responsibilities with few troubles, but he's been very reserved and she can't decide what he feels about Jack. Mind you, the old Ianto always was a private person, tending to stay in the background or hide in the archives until the demands of the job forced him out on missions. She wonders how long it will take this Ianto to venture out with the team. They could use his help. Every time Rhys goes out with Jack she fears she will lose not only her husband but the father of her child.

She sighs, then brightens at the thought of the previous evening. Finally getting a bit of quality family time not broken up by rift alarms and the increasingly frequent Weevil hunts. She could do with more of that. _ Bring on the hacker kid. _

*****

"Mr Jones! So lovely to see you! Where have you been hiding yourself, then? It's been ages!" The diminutive waitress in the café bats her false eyelashes at him as she makes him his "usual", which fortunately turns out to be a double ristretto. He needs some caffeine to combat the awful hammering in his head.

He mutters something about working in London, and forces a smile although he wishes she'd just shut up.

"We've had that handsome boss of yours in here recently," winking at him with a leer. The way she pronounces the word "boss" is heavy with suggestion of something more. "Hey, he's not back on the market is he? Does he like girls, or is it just the fellas for him?"

Ianto sips his coffee, savouring the thick, aromatic liquid whilst formulating a reply. He hates intrusive questions from anyone, but they are especially obnoxious from strangers. _Although is she a stranger? How well am I meant to know her? _ As the last of the coffee slides down his throat he decides what to say: "I honestly don't know what he likes, but you're welcome to try your luck." And with that he turns his back and strides out of the café back onto the Plass. It's only then that it hits him. He managed it. A conversation with someone who thought he was the old Ianto. And he did it all by himself.

He allows himself a small, smug smile as he makes his way back to Mermaid Quay. He doesn't need Jack after all. He can do this alone; the way he's always been.

But a small voice inside him reminds him that he wasn't always alone, even after Lisa. Those nights when his body ached for some human contact; skin to skin. Someone to grasp hold of and lose himself in. Anyone would do. And so he went out and offered himself up to anyone who would have him. There were plenty of bars in London where a pretty young man like him could get picked up in no time. He didn't have to make any effort. And for a short while he could forget his grief, forget who he was; just as he forgot the faces of every one of those anonymous strangers. But every time he woke up bruised and sore, feeling that he had betrayed Lisa's memory, he swore he wouldn't let it happen again. Yet within days that dangerous mood would descend another time, forcing him out onto the streets in search of carnal pleasure. Until the medication switched it off.

And within a few weeks he'll have finished the remaining tablets.


	17. Chapter 17

Footsteps echoing in the vast, vaulted storeroom, Ianto Jones attempts to navigate his way around the bewildering array of filing cabinets, wooden crates and leather cases. This is only one of several archive rooms, and he has already made his way around two others that are similarly filled. At first he had no idea where to begin, but then he noticed his own handwriting on labels attached to the cabinets. He suspects that his other self must have made a map of the area, but perhaps it was destroyed with the upper levels. Either that or it's in an office of his down here somewhere, if only he could find it.

_**Rift Activity 1895, Personnel Records 1927-1929, Expense Claims 1965-66, Catalogues of Alien Artifacts 1952-1954...**_

So read a few of the nearby labels. Ianto rubs at his temples, trying to shift the dull ache to somewhere outside of his skull. _Why didn't I put these in better order? Hold on, did I just think of him as me?_ He leans against a nearby cabinet, resting his throbbing forehead on the cold metal. Why is he feeling so lonely today? The anger that propelled him through his morning seems to have evaporated, leaving behind an unpleasant residue of self-pity. And he hates feeling sorry for himself; hates feeling weak; detests having to examine what he might have done differently last night.

In an attempt to shake off these bothersome thoughts, he opens the drawer in front of him, labelled _**Freelancers, 1906-1910**_. And whose name should be on the first file, but Captain Jack Harkness? With a sense of crushing inevitability, he opens the file and begins to read.

*****

Early evening, Ianto makes his way back up to the main Hub with a mind full of questions. Everything he has found out about his enigmatic boss has only served to pique his curiosity further. Has he really died so many times? What would it feel like to come back from death? How can a man who seems so full of life have been capable of doing such awful things? Because the Jack who worked freelance for Torchwood for the best part of a century was hired to carry out some of the most abhorrent missions. Theft, intimidation, murder, torture... _Was there anything he wouldn't do for money?_ It's hard to reconcile this image of a bloodthirsty mercenary with the gentle, smiling man who took him out to dinner the previous evening. _The man I nearly kissed._ The thought makes him want to gag, but is also disturbingly compelling. Exciting, even. Like being involved in the plot of a particularly lurid thriller; not that he's ever read one where the hero cops off with another man. Although, if Jack's done all of those things in the files, doesn't that make him the bad guy? Or does he exist in that complex grey area between right and wrong; hero and villain; desirable and repellent? And why does that make him so much more fascinating?

_Oh god, what's happening to me?_

*****

Gwen is sitting at her workstation, a sleepy Aeris cuddled up to her whilst all her attention is focused on the screen in front of her. Moving quietly up behind her with the intention of offering coffee, Ianto is arrested by the sight on the screen. A scowling, sneering, but incredibly attractive young man. He looks like a rock star, all attitude and cheekbones; not really his type, but oh so beautiful!

"Who's that?" he breathes, without realising he's spoken aloud. Gwen nearly jumps out of her chair as she turns to face him.

"Jesus, Ianto, you gave me a fright! Don't sneak up on me like that." Her face softens from outrage to amusement as she notices the rapt expression on Ianto's face. "Not you too! That's the exact same face Jack had on when he saw him earlier." Ianto does his best to school his features into their usual neutral expression, but the knowing smile lingers on Gwen's lips. "That's our new computer expert, apparently. Jack called earlier to say he's bringing him straight here once he's managed to sort out the transfer paperwork with the MOD."

Ianto raises his eyebrows with an unspoken question, and Gwen quickly fills him in on the details she has gleaned so far. It's certainly true that they could use someone with a bit of technical flair. Although he's only been here for seven weeks, Ianto already knows how to use the computer system better than the rest of the team put together. And he's well aware of his own shortcomings in that area. Still, he can't help feeling somewhat put out at the prospect of someone new with more talent than he has. _Especially someone so young and... well... gorgeous. Someone Jack finds attractive, too._

"Ianto? Are you okay? You look really tired. Do you need a break?" Gwen's voice is pure sympathy, and the attention she focuses on him makes Ianto want to confide in her. But confide what, exactly? He's too conflicted about too many different issues to know where to begin.

"Just spent too long getting friendly with dusty filing cabinets this afternoon. It's so huge down there, I couldn't find my office anywhere." And this bothers him. He likes to know everything, after all.

"Oh, I'm sure Jack will be happy to show you. He was always popping down there for a quick, er, chat." Gwen stares down at her keyboard, in what looks like an attempt to hide a fairly obvious smirk.

"Right. Well, coffee then?" It's about the best he can come up with at the moment.

And that's when they both hear the invisible lift start up, and raise their eyes to the two men descending. The two men standing close together, but not touching, Ianto notes.

"Bloody hell, he's stunning," Gwen whispers, just loud enough for Ianto to hear. And Ianto has to agree, he certainly is. They both make their way to the base of the lift, drawn like iron filings to a magnet.

Yet the man he finds himself staring at isn't the sullen blonde but the dark haired man standing next to him. The one who looks like the cat who got the cream and who can't seem to tear his eyes away from his companion. And Ianto feels something drop away inside him, leaving a nauseating chasm.

"Gwen, Ianto, meet our new team member, Sean Baxter." Finally, Jack turns to them, a wide grin plastered across his face.

And so Ianto does the only thing he can reasonably do right now, which is to put on his best receptionist's face and step forward, hand extended.

"Pleased to meet you, Sean, I'm Ianto Jones."


	18. Chapter 18

Ianto deliberately takes deep, calming breaths as he keys in the access code for the cell door, steps inside and checks on the monitoring equipment around the bed. Everything seems to be in order, but the drip feed is low so he changes the bag. He hopes that he isn't inadvertently poisoning the strange girl by his efforts to care for her. Wondering if her species can get bedsores, Ianto places his hands on a slender shoulder and hip, preparing to roll her over. The alien flesh feels soft and yielding, despite her emaciated appearance; the contact causing a shiver to run down Ianto's spine. His sensitivity to touch has been heightened over the last few days. He finds himself continually distracted by the textures of objects he's handling; the feel of his clothing against his skin; imagining what it would be like to touch someone else's body... A sensory overload both enjoyable and torturous, making it hard to concentrate at times.

_It's just a side-effect of cutting down on the meds._ Now that he's down to just 10mg there are bound to be differences in the way he feels. Only a few more weeks to go before his brain chemistry gets back to normal, or whatever passes for normal around here. He's just too tense at the moment. Overreacting to things. _To Jack. And Sean._

At the thought of his colleagues, Ianto's shoulders tighten and his heart rate accelerates. He forces his body to take slow, deep breaths and empties his mind.

_...a twisted tower silhouetted against a green sky. A pink planet suspended overhead, between the twin suns. Friends calling. __'Tula, Tula, over here'..._

_What was that? _Staggering backwards, Ianto makes contact with the wall and collapses against it. Stares at the girl; peaceful, unchanged. Shakes his head to get rid of the peculiar sensation that invaded his mind. Tells himself it's just another side-effect. A product of his over-active imagination.

Forcing himself back into action, Ianto checks the girl again, lifting her arm to check the skin underneath and reasoning that it looks okay. No need to roll her today. Leaving the cell to return to the Hub, he turns to look back at the supine figure.

_Tula... That would suit her._

*****

**ONGOING ARCHIVE NOTES**

**ALIEN ACTIVITY:** Twelve confirmed Weevil sightings.

**ALIEN TECHNOLOGY:** We still haven't been able to figure out the function of our alien guest's navel gadgetry, other than she seems to need it. Ianto is keeping a close eye on her, and has named her Tula.

**RIFT ACTIVITY:** Within acceptable levels.

**SECURITY:** Sean has overhauled the server security programs.

**STAFF:** Sean Baxter's first week has been a qualified success. On the one hand, his technical skills are on a par with Tosh's, but on the other, he has real issues with authority and I'm not yet sure how far I can trust him. Whether he will become a permanent part of the team is debatable, as the others don't seem to like him much. Will give him another three weeks trial. We can always Retcon him if it doesn't work out.

**OTHER STAFF ISSUES:** Firearms training with Sean was not a complete success. For someone who claims to be an expert at Wii shooting games, he was remarkably jittery. Maybe I shouldn't have been standing so close. Will have to give him lots more training if he's to stand a chance out in the field.

Ianto has been distant and distracted, and has started calling me "Sir" again. Will try to find ways of getting him out of the Hub to aid his recovery.

**UPCOMING ISSUES: **Still need to find more staff. Tula is stable, but without any trained medics on the team we can only guess at the right way to care for her.

_Captain Jack Harkness_

*****

"No, Ianto. I don't think that would be appropriate or necessary for your role here." Jack really hopes that this will be the end of the matter, and turns his attention back to the pile of paperwork in front of him. It's no use, he can't concentrate on anything much when Ianto is around. Still, he pulls a page towards him and starts making random marks on it with his pen.

"I wouldn't tick that box, Sir. Not unless you're planning on using them to subdue Weevils in the future."

Jack sighs heavily, looking up from the stationary requisition form and wondering how anyone can be so damn observant and efficient. He hands Ianto the form: "I'll leave the exact quantity of staple guns we need to you, then. But that's the only kind of guns you'll be handling around here for the foreseeable future."

But Ianto is still standing there, hands on hips, looking particularly delectable in his blue suit. The angry pout of his lips is positively smouldering. Jack gets the feeling that he won't leave until he's extracted some sort of deal from him. "Go on then, tell me why you think you need firearms training, exactly. Since you spend all your time down in the Hub I can't really see what use it would be."

"Quoting Torchwood Staff Protocols, Sir, _all personnel should have basic weapons training included as part of their induction_."

Jack groans. If Ianto's going to quote the rule book at him they could be here all night.

"Also, Sir, as I understand it, there have been numerous occasions in the past when the Hub's security has been breached and firearms have been used to neutralise the threat. It's your responsibility to make sure that I am able to adequately protect myself and others, should the need arise. And thirdly, Sean's weapons training doesn't seem to be going too well, so you might need to use me as a field agent in the future." _Was that a smirk I saw, then?_

"Okay, Ianto. Point taken. But how do you know anything about Sean's training?" He hadn't filed his notes yet.

"I was checking over the CCTV footage yesterday, trying to trace some glitches. And I couldn't help noticing Sean's performance in the shooting range. I think he'd have problems hitting a lorry at ten paces, Sir." _Yes, that was definitely a smirk, no matter how he tries to hide it with his serious, work face._

"And d'ya think you could do better? Or is it that you just want a little time up close and personal with the Coach?" Jack waggles his eyebrows as he stands, moving over to stand directly in front of Ianto. He watches with amusement as Ianto struggles with the impulse to move away. Jack's seen this before with his Ianto. That endearing effort to hold his ground even when his personal space was being invaded.

"I imagine that could be a bit of a distraction, Sir," Ianto says, his eyes focused on a spot somewhere below Jack's eyes. Jack can see his Adam's apple moving as he swallows, can smell his nerves as he starts to break out in a sweat. And as Jack's own body starts to respond to Ianto's proximity, the urge to reach out and pull him into a bruising, urgent embrace becomes much more difficult to resist.

But what were they talking about? _Oh yeah, guns._ At the thought of Ianto with a gun, Jack's refocuses, gains control of his errant hormones. He knows that all the arguments he's been given are valid, but there's still that memory...

He turns around, walking back to his desk and picking up some papers, not wanting Ianto to see his face right now.

"Okay then, Ianto. You'll get your training. But you're gonna have to wait until you're off all your meds. Can't have your judgement compromised when you're handling a weapon." _Because then all hell breaks loose._

"Right, Sir. I'll book it in the diary for three weeks time." Ianto heads back to work, leaving Jack with his memories. That one particular memory that haunts him.

Of Ianto. Firing a gun. At a glass box. Just moments before Jack's life was shattered.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note:** apologies for this being so late. For some reason ffn has not been able to let me upload docs for the last couple of days, so I'll post two chapters tonight to make up for it.

*****

"Oi, Ianto! My keyboard's gone all sticky again. Thought you'd fixed it this time."

Great, just what he needed. Another demand from the new boy. Masking his irritation as best he can, Ianto walks slowly over to Sean's workstation and picks up the offending item.

"You've got to expect a bit of bad behaviour if you will keep feeding it doughnuts," he says drily, remembering the mess of powdered sugar he had cleaned out from it last time. He could have just replaced it with a touch sensitive keypad, but felt that Sean needed to learn a lesson about tidiness in the workplace. Judging from the state of this cola splattered piece of plastic, the re-education could take some time.

"What you saying, mate? I need a pick-me-up every now and then, stuck down in this bloody place. You drink coffee at your computer, I eat doughnuts at mine."

Ianto's eyes flick over to the adjacent workstation. The steaming mug on a coaster, the gleaming surfaces. Back to this one with it's layer of junk food wrappers, drinks cans and tatty prints of scary looking women blu-tacked to any available vertical surface. He's refusing to clean the desk surface until Sean agrees to remove some of the unnecessary items cluttering it up, leaving them stuck in a stalemate situation. How anyone could have made such a mess in the past three days is beyond him.

"So? Are you gonna fix it or not? _I've_ got some pretty important work to be doing," the emphasis suggesting that his work is so much more crucial to the running of Torchwood Three than Ianto's.

Ianto takes in the arrogant stare, the defiantly tatty clothing, the back-combed hair thick with styling wax, and wonders how much longer he can maintain his polite exterior in the face of such insolence. "Borrow my keyboard then, if you think you can manage to look after it for ten minutes."

As he passes his workstation, Ianto picks up his mug of coffee. He needs to relax for a few minutes, and Sean's presence is too grating on his nerves. There's only one person in the Hub who can help him to unwind, so he heads off in that direction.

*****

As always, simply being in her presence is a tonic. She might not be able to respond to him in any conscious way, but the images he receives when he lays his hands on her are always soothing, if strange. Over the past two weeks he's been coming in here every few hours to commune with Tula. Ianto has discovered that if he slows his breathing and stills his over-active mind, then it fills with dreams of another world. _They must be her memories_, he's decided, and has to admit to being envious. To have lived surrounded by such peace, love and beauty... Surely it would help you to be a good person, immune from the tragedy and heartache that always seem to catch up with you in the end.

He doesn't want to share her with the others. Enjoys having this secret; something all of his own. A source of comfort in this hostile world. Besides which, Ianto's wary of saying anything to make Jack doubt his sanity. It's already been made perfectly clear that Jack doesn't trust him to handle firearms or pursue any kind of intimate relationship until he's off his medication and a member of the Officially Sane Club. No, Tula is his responsibility and he's going to protect her from the inevitable prodding and poking that would follow a discovery of her abilities.

She had helped him after he read about Lisa. After he found out about what happened to her in this universe. The survival that had been worse than death for both of them. Her execution at the hands of his colleagues. His grief. His recovery. His seduction...

He had stumbled down here, seeking solace in his distress. Trying to find a way to draw together his shredded sense of self. He had felt insubstantial, as if the past three years had been a dream; the man he thought he was, a mere shadow. But as he lay his hands on Tula, the disorienting fog had lifted; leaving a clear, bright picture of his Lisa, dying in his arms. It was the first time he had been able to face that memory without rancour; to look into her eyes and see that beloved spark extinguished. Gone, but not forgotten. And at that moment he knew that whatever had happened here did not need to trouble him. It wasn't his life. It wasn't his Lisa.

_Just as I'm not __**his **__Ianto._

But he still isn't ready to discuss this with Jack. He knows that he has been asked to forgive, but how can he when there has been no harm done to him? And right now, he is fascinated with the things he has found out about his life here, after Lisa. A side of himself that had never been revealed in his own world. An appetite for danger, excitement, experimentation, ecstasy...

And the Jack Harkness revealed in the journals? A man who, despite his myriad flaws and inability to express deeper emotions through words, manages to inspire such love and loyalty. And yet this is the same man who has killed for money; who kidnapped him; who spurned him. It's bewildering, especially when Ianto considers the way Jack is acting now. He's flirtatious again, but equally so with Sean. Does Ianto only mean as much to him as some arrogant twenty year old he's only just met? Or is this just Jack being Jack, and he can't help himself?

Still, this is meant to be a break from the confusion. He lays his hands on Tula and concentrates on reaching that quiet space in his mind. The dream world envelops him in a haze of golden light...

…_purple flowers twining round a crumbling stone edifice. Children playing catch under the darkening sky. An older woman reaching out to me with open arms, such love in her face. Mother..._

Drifting slowly back to the underground cell, Ianto carries with him a knowledge of what he has been neglecting. His family. His mother, sister, niece, nephew. All out there; all his to claim if he wants to. And he realises that he does now. He needs that connection here, to his other self. His other life.

It's time to rise from the dead.


	20. Chapter 20

"Bloody Sean and his bloody Coke cans..." Gwen mutters to herself as she stacks back in the fridge all the cans that had rolled out the instant she opened the door. She hears familiar footsteps on the stairs. "Ianto, you haven't seen a bottle of expressed milk in here, have you? I've got to go out with Jack and Aeris is bound to need a feed while I'm gone."

"Was that the small, unlabelled plastic bottle that looked an awful lot like a regular milk bottle?"

Gwen looks up in horror. "You didn't, did you?" she asks, trying to remember if her coffee tasted different this morning.

Ianto raises his eyebrows, and it isn't until the corners of his lips twitch up that Gwen realises she's been had.

"It's in the door, Gwen. Don't worry, I always check the milk before I use it, and that definitely didn't taste right. Though I was quite tempted to put it in Sean's tea."

"You're an evil man, Ianto Jones," Gwen smiles, glad that Ianto seems to be getting back to his old self. _Or is it his old self? His new self?_ Whatever it is, if it's confusing for her it must be bewildering for him.

"How are you settling in here, Ianto?" she asks. "Getting on okay with Jack? Sean?"

Ianto starts banging around by the coffee machine, seemingly intent on his task. She moves to stand next to him, looking up at the furrowed brow and set lips. Gwen isn't going to budge until she has had some kind of proper conversation. She's good at getting people to open up. Maybe she should get Jack to put her in charge of personnel. Human resources manager. Yeah, she could do that in return for a bit more time off.

Eventually he sighs, looking up at the ceiling. "Sean's a tosser and Jack's not much better."

Ianto puts a stop to any response by starting up the pump, leaving Gwen to ponder this new information. Who to defend first? The magnificent Captain or the new boy? _Sure, they both have their faults, but don't we all?_

"You know," she begins as the pump cuts out, "I find Sean pretty annoying too, but he's only young. He's all alone here, out of his depth, taken away from everything familiar. I'm not surprised he's acting a bit defensively. He probably just needs a friend." She gives Ianto a hopeful smile, wondering if he will take the hint.

"What are you saying, Gwen? Us lonely, bitter boys should stick together? Start an _I was abducted by Captain Jack_ support group?"

"It wasn't abduction, Ianto. We really thought it was the best thing for you." Had she thought that? Or had it just been Jack carrying them along with his sheer force of will.

"You didn't think it through at all. How am I supposed to introduce myself to my family now? Hey, did you miss me? It was all a terrible mistake and I've just been ignoring you for the last year." His voice deepens and he slops some of the coffee as he puts the mug onto the tray. "Or should I come clean and tell them I'm from another universe and not the Ianto they remember at all? What am I going to do, Gwen?"

Looking into Ianto's watery eyes, Gwen feels a heaviness inside. "I could help you break the news to them, if that's what you want?" There is no response, so she continues: "I got to know Rhiannon a little, just after you, er, he... passed on. I had to tell her what happened, so maybe I should be the one to explain that I got it wrong."

"What will you tell her?"

"Don't worry, love, I'll think of something good. We'll sort it out for you. I promise. I know how important family is, now," she adds, softly, placing a reassuring hand on his trembling one.

Ianto looks up at her, giving her the feeling that she is being assessed. "Okay, that would be helpful."

"And you'll try and make an effort to get to know Sean? Help him to fit in?"

Ianto snorts and turns back to his coffee machine. "I'm not making any promises, but I'll have a go. Can't imagine it will do much good, though. Do you and Jack have time for coffee before you leave?"

Gwen hears footsteps bounding over from Jack's office, and that charming voice booms out: "Lovely idea, Ianto, but I reckon we'll have to take a raincheck on that. Gwen and I have work to do; but maybe later we can hook up for a drink. I could take you out to that new place round the corner?"

Observing Ianto's response with curiosity, Gwen notices the way he freezes on hearing Jack's voice. He keeps his eyes trained on the coffee machine as he responds.

"I've got a lot to do today, Sir. Can't just go gallivanting off whenever I feel like it."

"Oh, I'm sure I could distract you from your duties for a little while. The world won't end because of a late tax return." Jack puts a hand on Ianto's shoulder, who shrugs it off and starts dismantling the filter on the machine with jerky movements. Jack knits his brow for a moment, then smiles at Gwen. "C'mon Gwen, that crime scene won't be getting any fresher. We'll talk later, Ianto." He raises his voice to include Sean and Rhys down at their workstations: "Play nicely boys. Don't do anything I wouldn't!"

_Is there anything you wouldn't do?_ Gwen catches Ianto's eye as she thinks this, and wonders if his weary eye-roll means he's thinking the same thing. Giving him what she hopes is a reassuring smile, she turns to follow the man in the flapping coat.

She'll work out what to say to Rhi, she'll help Sean fit in with the team and god damn it, she'll figure out what's going on between Jack and Ianto. _Only because I want to help them,_ she tells herself. _I just want to see Jack happy again._


	21. Chapter 21

"Looks like a classy place. You thinking of moving out?" Ianto attempts to keep the hope out of his voice, but doesn't think he's done a very good job. Nights over the past few weeks have been torture, knowing that Sean is there in the Hub too; his imagination filling with pictures of Sean and Jack meeting up after dark. The archives have become a refuge for him, a place to hide and lose himself in the concerns of another age.

Sean grunts, eyes fixed on the screen as he scrolls through the interior views of the large flat. As Ianto pushes aside some detritus to place the steaming cup of tea on the desk, he notices the address.

"Splott! I knew it looked too good to be true. I'd give that one a miss if I were you. It's not a good neighbourhood." _More like a war zone,_ he thinks to himself.

Sean looks up, seeming to notice Ianto for the first time. "It's not? The agent said it was up and coming, or some such bollocks. Thought he was a bit shifty, though. Never trust the sly buggers, that's what I say." He picks up the tea and takes a huge gulp, wiping his mouth with his sleeve as he sets it back down again. Ianto struggles to keep his face impassive, wondering how someone so beautiful can have such repulsive habits.

"What do you reckon then, mate? There's these places on the waterfront that look great, but they're a lot more cash for a lot less space," Sean says, calling up some images of stunning and deceptively spacious designer apartments. "Thing is, I don't know Cardiff at all. I could do with a bit of a hand. 'Specially from someone who isn't trying to sell me something."

"Okay," Ianto examines the photographs and accompanying sales pitch. "Well, they're probably asking too much if they've got that many left unlet. I expect you could knock them down a bit if you like the place. But it's not like you can't afford it anyway. Not on what we make here." Ianto has become slightly embarrassed by the size of his bank balance, but can't think of anything much to spend it on at the moment. Not until he feels thoroughly comfortable with going out on his own.

Sean looks down at his mug of tea and seems about to say something, then just takes another slurp. Ianto waits patiently, remembering what Gwen said about Sean needing a friend and trying to ignore the disgusting sound of him drinking. Eventually he reaches the bottom of the mug and slams it down on the desk.

"Thing is, I've got financial commitments back home, now." Sean looks up, searchingly, green eyes clouded with doubt. "Can you keep something to yourself, Ianto? You're not much of a talker, are you?"

Ianto decides to let his silence speak for itself.

"Oh, fuck it! I need to tell someone, anyway. Gonna go nuts keeping it all to myself." He sighs deeply, hunching his shoulders and looking more like the boy he must once have been, rather than the obnoxious punk of recent years. "It's my mum, y'know? She's always been a bit... well, different. Needed me to look after her. Keep her out of trouble n' all that. I couldn't just leave her on her own. There's some bird from social services that comes over a couple of hours a day, but it's never enough, is it?"

Shaking his head, Ianto is flooded with guilt at remembering his own neglected filial duties. How his mum ended up in that place with no family to care for her. Rhi too busy with the kids. Ianto too busy escaping from his past. _Maybe Sean is a better person than I am;_ the thought shocking Ianto into paying real attention to the young man in front of him.

"So, when I got dragged away to this place and boss-man told me how much I'd be making, I thought to myself, now I can pay for proper live-in carers, y'know? I mean, it's not gonna be as good as family n' all, but it's the best I can do right now. At least she can stay in the house with all her stuff around her. All them bloody knick-knacks and crap." He smiles fondly, and Ianto is struck again by how young he looks with the attitude stripped away. Ianto gives him a tight smile, not trusting himself to say anything else without giving away something personal. His discomfort seems to go unnoticed, however, as Sean suddenly turns a dazzling grin on him.

"So, mate, what do you say? Gonna come and look at this place with me? Reckon you could do a better job of getting me that discount. I never know what to say to those arseholes."

"What about Jack? Wouldn't he help you look for somewhere?"

Sean snorts, the scowl turning his face momentarily ugly. "I'm not gonna ask that creepy bugger. Don't wanna spend any more time with him than I have to. Keeps trying to chat me up, n' all, y'know? Gives me the creeps. Not like you, mate. You're alright for a bender. Know how to keep your hands to yourself."

Ianto's eyes widen at the implications of this little speech. Sean seems to interpret this as disapproval, hastening to add: "Oh god, he's not your boyfriend is he? I didn't think you guys were..."

Shaking his head rapidly: "No, no, nothing like that. It's okay. You're entitled to your own opinion, anyway." Thinking it wasn't that different from his own a couple of months ago. Keen to change the subject, he pretended to study the flat on the screen. "Okay then, I'll arrange a viewing if you like. I can make sure we get someone who's able to negotiate to show us around. What about this afternoon?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. Cheers mate."

Smiling broadly, Ianto heads off to make a phone call.

*****

Returning to the Hub, Jack is annoyed to find Ianto has closed the Tourist Information shop early. During the drive back, he'd been planning how to persuade him out for a drink, using some of his most irresistible techniques. Letting his thoughts linger over the inevitable hand holding and where it might lead, only reminding himself at the last moment that they needed to have a serious discussion about Lisa before he would allow things to go any further. It had been a good thing that Gwen was driving, because he was feeling quite distracted, his insides jittery with anticipation.

"Ianto? Rhys? Sean? Anyone home? Aeris?" Jack calls out, his voice echoing in the vast space of the central Hub. He pouts, standing with his hands on his hips and wanting to know where the hell his team have got to without informing him. He's supposed to be in charge, after all. Some days, you wouldn't know it.

"Ah, Jack, there you are." Rhys grins as he steps out of the corridor, managing to look quite manly despite the baby-sick motif on his t-shirt and the culprit strapped to his back.

"Where's Ianto got to? And Sean?"

"Just gone out for a spot of house-hunting, they said." Jack feels his jaw drop, unable to marshal his thoughts into any coherent order. There were just so many things wrong with what Rhys just said.

"Hey, it's okay, isn't it? They haven't gone far. Just to that new block down on the waterfront. Ianto said they could get back in five minutes if there was any trouble. Didn't think you'd mind. That Sean needs a place of his own. Might learn a bit about keeping house, that way."

They both look over to Sean's workstation, then back to each other with wide eyes. It was clear and polished, with only one of the photos left up. One of an older woman, attractive if somewhat haunted looking, bearing a striking resemblance to Sean.

"What's going on around here? I leave for a couple of hours and everything goes weird," Jack complains. Rhys just shrugs, so Jack stalks over to his office, slamming the door behind him.

Seated behind his desk, and tapping away at the keyboard with some force, Jack starts to search through the CCTV footage. He has some investigating to do.


	22. Chapter 22

Squirming on the hot leather seat, Ianto stares out of the open door of the SUV, willing Gwen to give him a signal. She's been with Rhi for almost fifteen minutes now, and the heat in the vehicle is becoming unbearable. Reluctantly, he begins to roll up his shirt sleeves, exposing the long white scar on his left wrist. It's one of those blazing midsummer days when the city feels like a giant oven, slowly baking its stupefied inhabitants. It's almost enough to persuade Ianto to untuck his shirt. Almost, but not quite. He compromises by loosening his tie and undoing the top buttons of his shirt.

Groaning, he watches the distant figure in black give the larger, pink-coloured figure a prolonged hug. How long is this going to take? Itching to be on the move, he hoists himself out of the seat and starts to pace around the vehicle. The pools of shade under the trees in the park beckon him, but, heeding Gwen's request, he stays by the SUV. The steady rhythm of his footsteps helps to distract him from the nauseating, sinking feeling in his guts. He doesn't want to run away from the inevitable meeting any more. He just wants to get it over with; to end the suspense that has been gnawing away at him all week. Yet when he turns round the rear of the vehicle and spots Gwen waving her arms, his breathing halts and a lump rises in his throat, threatening to choke him.

Without thinking, his feet start to take him in the direction of the two women. Hesitantly at first, then speeding up, almost running when he sees the ample figure of his sister start trotting towards him. When they are just a few feet apart they both stop, staring wide-eyed at the sibling they each thought they had lost forever. Rhi's kind, freckled face is streaked with tears, her eyelids red and puffy. She holds his gaze, eyes pleading, her forehead crumpled; uncertain. Neither speaks.

Gwen approaches the stationary couple, but then stops short, turning instead to the parked SUV. As she walks away she pulls her mobile out of her pocket and starts texting, looking back at Ianto and Rhi every few moments. They are still standing, frozen in place like statues.

Eventually someone has to speak.

"Rhi?" Ianto says, voice hoarse. He stretches out his arms, not trusting language to convey his feelings right now.

"Ianto? I don't... I can't..." Rhi gasps as she staggers towards her brother, enveloping him in a stifling hug. Returning the embrace, Ianto buries his face in her hair, breathing in the clean scent of shampoo. "Is it really you?" she wails into his shoulder. Ianto shudders as he holds her; wanting to tell her the truth, but knowing that Gwen's explanation is far more plausible. It had sounded unlikely to him when she first told him her idea: the combination of overworked paramedics mistaking his comatose state for death, a lack of ID on his body and amnesia when he awoke; but would be much more acceptable to anyone outside of Torchwood than the real version of events.

Rhi looks up at him, clutching his arms like she's worried he'll disappear. "What happened to you?" she breathes. Moving her hands down his arms to hold his hands, she runs her fingers over the scar tissue on his left arm. Frowning, she looks down, then raises her eyes imploringly. "Oh God, Ianto, what happened to you?"

Squeezing his sister's hands, noting the way the sun has turned her nose pink and extra freckly as it always did in his world too, Ianto is filled with a sense of having come home at last. A smile rises within him on a wave of love for this ordinary yet special woman. "It's okay, Rhi. I had some bad times, but I think it's going to be okay now."

She still looks unsure of him, her eyes brimming with tears. "But what happened, Ianto? It must have been awful to make you want to..." Her voice starts to crack as she tries desperately to hold back the sobs. She loses the battle, wailing that she never wants to lose him again as she falls into his arms.

Shushing and patting her back, Ianto kisses the top of her head and looks over to Gwen, sitting back against the trunk of one of the trees bordering the park. He gives her a thumbs up signal, which she returns with a grin that carries across the distance. Then he turns his attention back to Rhi, and tries to put all of his love for her into the touch of his hands as he pulls her closer still.

*****

Some time, and many crumpled tissues later, they sit on one of the shaded park benches, bodies turned to one another, knees touching. Rhi has been filling him in on the past year of her life, and although he's already familiar with most of her news from her Facebook entries, Ianto loves hearing the tales of domestic troubles and joys. Her lively manner can make the most mundane incidents seem comic, tragic, or both at once.

"What about before then?" he asks hesitantly as she pauses for breath.

"What do you mean?" she says, genuinely puzzled.

"Didn't Gwen tell you? I still don't have the memories of the last couple of years back. The ones when I was in Cardiff." It seems safer to play it this way, as although he has the journals, they can't possibly tell him everything. There was very little about his family in there in any case.

"Oh Ianto, I'm so sorry." She looks over to the duck pond, taking time to think about what this might mean. "What about your boss? Can't he tell you what happened?"

Jack again. No matter what happens to him, it always seems to come back to that man. What does she know about him and Jack? What had he told her? He doesn't want to ask, afraid of the answers for reasons he doesn't want to examine right now.

However, Rhi's gossipy nature saves him from having to decide what to say. "You were a couple, you know that?" Ianto nods, wordlessly willing her to go on. "Came as a bit of a shock, to be honest; when I was told you'd been seen out on a date with a handsome man. Don't know why you couldn't have told me yourself. It's not like I'd have disapproved or anything. Not like Dad would have."

Frowning at the mention of his father, Ianto turns his gaze away in an attempt to avoid painful memories. Rhi interprets this her own way: "I wouldn't have, Ianto. I'd have loved to have met him." A mischievous smile plays across her lips, "I heard he was a right looker, you lucky sod. Hey, what's the matter?" She squeezes his hand, her eyes widening as her thoughts tick over. "Oh god, he hasn't found someone else, has he?"

Shaking his head, Ianto keeps his eyes fixed on his knees as he speaks. "It's not like that. It's hard to explain..." Sighing deeply, he wonders how much of this Rhi will understand. "Just try to imagine what it would be like to be told that you had been in a relationship with someone and you can't remember any of it. It's weird, I mean, the attraction is there, but I feel like it isn't me he really wants. He wants someone who's just a memory, and I'm someone else now." Looking up at Rhi's sympathetic but puzzled expression, he realises that his situation is probably too unusual for anyone else to comprehend.

"But you still fancy him, right?"

Ianto nods.

"Well then, if he still fancies you then I don't see what the problem is, Ianto. Sometimes you've just got to go for it, you know? Have a bit of fun while you're still young enough to enjoy it. You've spent too much of your life worrying about things. Even when you were a kid. Mum was always telling you to lighten up. You remember what she used to say?"

A faint smile lights up his face as Ianto replies: "Chase away those frowns with a playful smile, and the world will smile at you." But memories of his mother come with their own burden of guilt. "Rhi, how is she now? Has she got any worse?"

Tight-lipped, it's now his sister's turn to stare fixedly at her knees. "It's been a while since I've seen her. I mean, it's such a long way across the city, and she never seems to recognise me anyway. I don't want to take the kids. That place gives me the heebie-jeebies as it is. It'd probably scar them for life." Her voice sounds defensive as she continues: "I've asked them to move her somewhere closer, but all the places are full, and they say she's best off where she is as the staff are used to dealing with her."

Ianto shudders, remembering how the staff had "dealt with her" the only time he had plucked up the courage to visit. Early onset Alzheimers can result in a complete character change. The violent rages that overcame her were a terrible thing to witness, and the methods of restraint the staff used were even worse. He's been thinking about this a lot over the last week, since his chat with Sean, and has been doing some research.

"Rhi, what would you think if I said I could get her into someplace better? A private nursing home nearer your part of town. Because I can, if you want. I earn a small fortune and I've got precious little to spend it on at the moment. I thought maybe I could..." But all further words are crushed out of him by a fierce hug.

"You daft sod, of course I'd say yes! That'd be brilliant!" She exclaims, her eyes shining and a huge grin splitting her face.

Ianto grins back, and is again filled with that peaceful sensation of homecoming. Gradually, he's fitting himself into this alternate life. And so far, it's feeling good.


	23. Chapter 23

_...voices calling across the void: 'Tula? Come back to us! Find us!...' Need to get back home... Under my sky, my suns, my stars..._

Ianto drops Tula's hand, breaking the connection, when he senses a hand on his shoulder. He doesn't need to turn around to know who it is. The dizzying scent wraps itself around him, and Ianto feels as if myriad tendrils join their two bodies, despite the distance. A distance which isn't so great, after all. The skin on his shoulder burns; the fire sweeping down through his body and waking every nerve cell until he almost cries out for more contact.

But he's still not ready to trust this man. Still frets that he is just a second rate substitute for his lost self. So he steadies himself, slows his breathing and calms his errant impulses as much as is possible.

Then he turns.

---

"Ianto? Everything okay? How's our guest doing?" Jack tries to keep the anxiety from his voice, but the way Ianto was acting when he came into the room sent fear stabbing through him. He'd been in some kind of a trance state, which was worrying as Jack knew that Ianto had just finished his medication. Jack had decided to keep a close eye on him in case there were any strange side-effects, or a return of the depression. It wasn't just an excuse to check out whether there was anything going on between Ianto and Sean, or so he told himself. There wasn't anyway. Jack was reasonably certain of that. But today the CCTV had shown Ianto standing still for an awfully long time, just holding hands with the alien, prompting Jack to make a closer investigation.

Then when Jack made tentative contact, he'd felt Ianto tense; his breathing and heart rate quickening until he was almost trembling. Gradually he'd returned to a more normal state, during which time Jack had kept quiet as he hadn't wanted to transmit his own fear to Ianto.

Now he's turned around and Jack can see his eyes, which seem darker than usual, the pupils blown. Ianto won't meet his eyes, gazing down at a spot somewhere below them which always makes Jack wonder if he has something stuck in his teeth. He surreptitiously tries to clean them with his tongue, at which point he sees Ianto gulp and close his eyes briefly. Strange behaviour. If he hadn't just seen him having some kind of mental episode, Jack would have put it all down to lust and pulled Ianto towards him, cutting off any chance of dialogue with a blistering kiss. _Mind you, mental illness or not, that's still an option..._ Jack licks his lips, pondering whether to make a move now, or to continue to bide his time. Ianto decides for him.

"There's something strange about her, Sir. I've been meaning to tell you for a while now, but, well, I was worried you might put it all down to me having some kind of hallucination. I'm sure I'm not. I'm completely back to normal now; as far as I can remember what that's like," he adds hurriedly, moving away from Jack as he speaks. "Take her hand and calm your breathing. Try to think of nothing then hopefully you'll feel it too. It's some kind of psychic connection, and it's getting stronger. I think she must be about to wake."

Over Tula's prone body, Ianto watches Jack intently as he follows the instructions. At first there is nothing, but Jack calls on the training he's been given both as a Time Agent and by the Doctor, and soon finds himself overpowered by a stream of images, sounds and sensations from an alien world. It's hard to make sense of them to begin with. He can feel the consciousness trying to emerge, but Tula is still lost in the fog of her memories. Calling out to her with all the power of his mind, he senses a connection flicker for a moment, then he loses it again. Despite his best efforts, Tula remains elusive. Jack finds his way back through the fog and into the room again.

When he opens his eyes, Ianto is staring into them with an intensity which makes Jack want to look away this time. He puts this slight jumpiness down to the after-effects of the psychic connection.

"You felt it too, didn't you?"

Jack nods, pulls himself together, then answers properly. "Yeah, it's there alright. Her species seems to communicate telepathically. As far as I could tell she's trying to wake but can't quite manage it yet." As Jack's brain starts to process the confusion of images, memories and emotions he's just been immersed in, he warms to the subject, pacing around the small cell and raising his voice with enthusiasm. "It's not a species I've ever come across before, but they seem to call themselves the Tri'aths. They're not particularly technologically advanced or aggressive. Probably why I've never heard of them," he grins, "It's always the mean bastards that get the most attention, isn't it? But Tula's species is gentle and peace loving." Jack sighs and looks down at her, stroking the side of her face. "I always worry for the peaceful ones. They're so easy to take advantage of. Never seem to know how to stand up for themselves."

"Is there anything else we can do to try and wake her? It seems like she's still in contact with her people. I'm sure I heard them calling her."

"You heard that?" Jack is taken aback. Just how receptive is this Ianto? Could he be more so than his Ianto had been?

Ianto nods. "So far it's just been images of her planet. Memories of friends and family, that kind of thing. But today there was a message calling her home. Could she find her way back through the Rift? Could we help her?"

"I don't know. We've never had any control over the Rift. We could certainly get her to a opening when one appears, but how she would find her way home again? I just don't think we could help with that." Jack watches the hope drain out of Ianto's eyes and wishes he could offer something more constructive. "You're doing a great job of looking after her, though, Ianto. Couldn't ask for a better nurse. It's a shame I never get ill, really." A wicked grin lights up his face as his thoughts run riot. "Mind you, don't think I'd ever want to get out of bed if I had you to give me sponge baths."

Ianto clears his throat and looks down at the clipboard he is now holding in front of his body like a shield. He begins to quote Jack some statistics about Tula's vital signs, which Jack eventually starts to pay attention to, but not before observing with some satisfaction that Ianto's cheeks are stained with a slight flush and he appears to be having trouble holding back a smile.

When he's finished reeling off facts and figures, Jack takes a few steps closer. "I hope you haven't forgotten our date tomorrow?"

"Date, sir?" Ianto queries, eyebrows raised over wide eyes.

Jack gives his widest, toothiest smile. The one he knows is irresistible to most known species. "Our date, Ianto. You insisted, remember? It's in the diary. I'm going to be instructing you in the use of your weapon." He lets his eyes travel down the tempting figure before him, resting them somewhere in the region where you might conceal a weapon. Ianto gulps again, dropping his clipboard down to block Jack's view as he steps back and towards the door.

"I, er, I'm looking forward to it, sir. I've got to go now. Things to do," he stammers as he makes a hasty exit.

Jack watches him leave as a predator might watch a fleeing mouse. Then his face softens, as memories start to unfurl of his Ianto in the early days. He still smiles, but whether from anticipation or nostalgia, even he couldn't say.


	24. Chapter 24

"That's it. Now raise your arm slowly. Aim. Breathe in, out, and squeeze the trigger gently." Jack's breath on Ianto's cheek, burning where it caresses his skin. It's so hard to concentrate when he is aware of every point of contact between their bodies. Jack pressed into his back, the heat of him radiating through the layers of clothing. Four thin layers of clothing: the usual white t-shirt and blue cotton shirt, the satin back of a waistcoat and another cotton shirt, this one purple. And lower down... well, that can't be more than four layers either, although Ianto is desperately trying to stop himself speculating about Jack's underwear because he's about to fire a lethal weapon for the first time and he needs all his attention for that.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he pushes away the images of Jack's body and focuses on calming his breathing, just as he does with Tula. Drawing the cool air deep into his lungs, his mind is empty; awareness limited to the arm holding the gun. Eyes open, he sights, releases the breath and squeezes the trigger.

The shot rings out in the dank tunnel, the echoes loud even through the ear-defenders.

A low whistle brushes his cheek. "Nice shot! Right through the forehead. Okay, let's see if that was beginner's luck. You're on your own this time."

And then, mercifully, Jack steps away and the heated skin of Ianto's back cools rapidly. He shivers briefly, wishing for Jack to move closer again, but at the same time glad for the opportunity to concentrate more easily.

And concentrate he does, tuning out everything but the view down the barrels of the different weapons, the touch of cold steel, the tang of cordite and the impact as the guns kick back against him when fired. Jack's words of encouragement dwindle and are replaced by quiet exclamations of surprise, as time after time Ianto manages to hit the Weevil targets between the eyes.

When he finally runs out of rounds in the semi-automatic, Ianto turns to look at his instructor, about to ask whether to reload. Something in Jack's gaze stops him, however. The way those eyes are staring at him in a way he's never seen before: intense and searching. _Is he really seeing __**me**__, this time?_ Ianto wonders; hardly daring to hope but finding himself irresistibly drawn towards this enigmatic man. A man who somehow manages to look sexy in blue ear-defenders and tinted safety specs. A man he realises he is walking towards without any conscious control over his body. He stops in front of Jack, who is leaning back against the wall, a question in his eyes.

---

"Where did you learn to do that?" Jack asks, admiration warming his voice.

Ianto doesn't answer. Instead he removes his ear-defenders and safety glasses, dropping them to the floor where they land with a clatter. Jack's eyes widen and his lips part, as Ianto reaches towards him and does the same with his safety gear, fingertips brushing against cheekbones as he pulls the glasses off. There is a long moment when they stare at each other, and Jack remembers the kiss that never happened, and why it didn't, and opens his mouth to ask about Lisa but doesn't get any further than "What..." before he is silenced.

Ianto's lips on his. Ianto's hands in his hair, pulling, grabbing. Ianto's tongue pushing into his mouth and greedily exploring. Ianto's heated body pinning him to the cold wall. Ianto's hips grinding into him so Jack can feel his arousal. Ianto's hands running down his sides, round to his arse, clutching, kneading.

Jack tries to hold on to the thought of Lisa while his body responds to Ianto, his hands moving of their own volition, roughly pulling Ianto's shirt out of his waistband. One hand travels upwards, tracing an oh so familiar path over sweat-slicked skin. The other slips down, under the waistband, as far as he can reach without undoing any fastenings. Everything is right, their bodies fitting together, moving together... so right. Jack feels, hears, a moan and doesn't know if it was him or Ianto as they merge into one, their clothing the only barrier to complete union.

Then cold air hits his bruised lips as Ianto pulls back for air, before launching a fresh assault, this time on Jack's shirt buttons. With a supreme effort of willpower, going against all of his screaming instincts, Jack forces himself to continue with his earlier question.

"Ianto? What about Lisa?" The words are gasped, making Jack realise just how close he is to not caring about the answer.

Intent on the fiddly buttons, Ianto doesn't even look up; growling "What about her?" before ripping the last few so that they ping off onto the floor.

Reluctantly moving his hands from where they want to be, Jack reaches for Ianto's as he yanks down Jack's braces, getting a grip on Ianto's forearms and stopping him from tearing off his shirt. "**Lisa**, Ianto. Did you read the rest of the journal?" He can feel Ianto straining against his grasp, trying to reach the rest of his clothing as his mouth closes in on Jack's again. Jack turns his head to avoid the kiss, which lands on his jaw instead. An open-mouthed onslaught, moving up to his earlobe, licking, biting, hot breath panting against Jack's skin.

"Ianto!" _Oh god, that feels so good._ "Ianto, I killed her!"

Finally the words seem to reach their target, and Ianto pulls back, drawing a moan from Jack at the loss of sensation, but making it easier to gather the tangled threads of his thoughts. He forces himself to stare into Ianto's eyes, darker than he's ever seen them before, as he repeats "I killed her. I'm so sorry."

"No you didn't." The denial is emphatic, unexpected, leaving Jack at as loss as to how to respond. As he watches, Ianto's gaze loses focus; his arms stop straining. His voice, when he finally speaks, is cracked, broken. "She died in my arms, Jack. Nothing you can do or say is ever going to change that."

Letting go of the limp arms, Jack cups Ianto's face in his hands before asking for the thing he most needs. The question he's scared to have answered. "So you forgive me?"

Fixing back on Jack's eyes, Ianto shakes his head slightly. "I don't need to. She was nothing to me. The Lisa you killed."

Jack stares back, trying to comprehend this lack of concern. He feels a surge of joy as he realises that it really doesn't matter, that he's in the clear at last; that he's free to follow his instincts which right now are telling him to kiss this man again before tearing his clothes off and falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Taking a deep breath, he leans in, their lips meeting as his hands drop to deal with Ianto's waistcoat, freeing the buttons before pushing the fabric off his shoulders. It's only then that he notices how Ianto's arms still haven't moved, hanging down beside him, unresisting. And his lips are barely responding to the pressure of Jack's; a sharp contrast to the hungry kiss only moments before.

_But of course_, Jack realises, slowing down; _he's inexperienced_. He seeks to reassure, cupping Ianto's face with one hand whilst the other slowly works on the shirt buttons. "Don't worry, Ianto, I'll be gentle with you."

"What?" Ianto says, and something in the tone of his voice makes Jack realise that he's made yet another mistake. Ianto laughs. A bitter sound with no real humour. "You think this is my first time with a man, don't you? No, don't try and deny it. You think I'm just like he was. You think you'll be my one and only and I'll be ever so grateful to you for showing me what to do. Well listen up, Jack," he says, taking hold of Jack's hands and pushing them away from him, "I've had loads of men. Probably more than a hundred, although I never bothered counting. I know exactly what I'm doing. And right now that's walking away from this."

He steps away from Jack, tucking his shirt back into his trousers and picking up his waistcoat, a scowl marring his face as he turns to leave. Jack, floundering, forces himself to say something before he goes. "But when? Why? I don't know anything about this, Ianto!"

"Of course you don't, it's hardly the sort of thing I'm going to broadcast to the world. I'm not proud of myself, but I don't see why I should be ashamed either. It's just something that happened when I was grieving. Grieving Lisa," he adds, looking up at Jack, his eyes naked, accusatory. "You still don't treat me like my own person. You need to figure out what you want out of this, because I can't be him for you. He's dead and gone, Jack. You'll never get him back. Us mere mortals don't have your luck."

And with that he storms out of the range, leaving Jack stunned by the revelation, and paralysed by his conflicting emotions. Frustrated desire fights with the anger at Ianto's harsh words, and with sympathy for his plight. Eventually the desire wins out, and he runs out into the corridor and after the distant figure.


	25. Chapter 25

Reaching the main Hub, Ianto slows his pace and runs his hands through his hair and down over his clothing, straightening his tie and checking that everything looks respectable before entering. He heads over to Sean and Gwen at their workstations, a quick glance at his watch confirming that it is almost time for them to clock off. Not that they always keep regular hours in this place, but since taking on Sean, Jack had been encouraging them all to try and leave at a sensible time, Rift permitting.

Ianto heads over to Sean and leans back against his desk, waiting for him to finish typing some code.

Sean looks up. "What's up, mate?" He makes pistols with his fingers and shoots at Ianto, adding his own sound effects. "You a sharp-shooter, then? It's fun, isn't it? So long as you don't get molested by your instructor," he adds, and Ianto follows his sight-line to Jack, who has just entered the room looking decidedly dishevelled.

"Yeah, it was okay," he answers curtly, keen to change the subject before any awkward questions are asked. "Uh, I was wondering. It's nearly the end of the day. I could really do with a break from this place. You fancy joining me for a pint somewhere? You too, Gwen?" he adds hastily, not wanting Sean to think he's implying anything more than just friendly drinks with a workmate.

"Aww, that's sweet, Ianto, but I need to get home and get my feet up. Rhys has promised some home cooking tonight, as well. Can't pass that up now, can I?" she says with an affectionate smile.

"I didn't know Rhys was a cook," Ianto responds, deliberately keeping his voice light and a smile on his face whilst watching Jack out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, he's not really, but he does try, bless him. Last time he tried making a stir fry the vegetables were a mix of raw and burnt. We had to call for a Chinese take-away in the end."

Laughing with Gwen and surreptitiously checking Jack's reactions, Ianto is satisfied with the thunderous look. _Good, let him suffer, the arrogant twat._ With a theatrical gesture he checks his watch again, pleased to see it is now six, and stands, stretching.

"I'll just go and get changed into something a bit more casual, then," he announces, somewhat louder than necessary. "Anywhere in particular you want to go, Sean?"

"You know of any alternative pubs? Y'know, more of a punk or metal scene? I don't wanna end up in some posh wine-bar with a bunch of arseholes. No offence, Ianto. It's just not my sorta thing."

Gwen starts recommending some of the pubs she knows from her days as a police officer, making Ianto wonder in what capacity she had had dealings with them. Oh well, rough pub or not, he needs to get away from Jack for a few hours. He can still feel the righteous indignation bubbling away inside, and he wants to do something reckless. Something to prove that he's his own man, and isn't going to follow a path set by some other version of himself.

He heads off to his room, not looking back once.

*****

Standing in his underwear before shelves of casual clothing he's barely looked at before, Ianto is overwhelmed by the choice. He selects a pair of faded jeans at random, and is pleased to discover how close-fitting they are. There's a dark denim jacket and a silver studded belt to go with the jeans, and he has a sudden flashback to going out on the prowl in London, wearing something very similar. He knows what he needs to go under it: a red shirt, top buttons undone.

Standing in front of the mirror, Ianto admires the effect. All he's missing is a necklace of some sort; something to draw attention to his open shirt. He goes to the cupboard with the stack of crates. There must be something in here. If they were the same person, then it stands to reason that the other Ianto would have had some jewellery. The top one is the journals, the second, DVDs, then books, then an assortment of keepsakes, but no necklaces immediately obvious.

That leaves one crate. Ianto pulls it out into the room and lifts the lid. For a moment his brain refuses to make sense of the jumble of objects inside. Then it starts to focus on individual items. An antique stopwatch, a red military beret, a pair of handcuffs... Ianto picks up a confusing arrangement of leather straps and metal rings, then drops it as if stung, his eyes wide with shock. A cryptic journal entry comes back to him. _Oh my God, is that what he meant? _ There are many more leather, metal and plastic items in there, the size of some of them making his eyes water. Eventually his breathing calms, and he ventures to explore the contents more thoroughly. He pulls out a leather collar with a D-ring, remembers his original purpose, and tries it on. He isn't sure if it makes him look sexy or ridiculous, but if they're going to some alternative dive then he'll probably fit in better in bondage gear. _It'll be worth it for the look on Jack's face when he sees me leave._

Determined to brazen this out, Ianto forces himself to remember all the times he's felt humiliated and confused by Jack. Resentment simmering, he grabs his wallet and keys, then heads out of the door.

Keeping his eyes down, running over the scene in his head, trying not to think about how good Jack had felt and tasted. Trying not to wonder about some of the items in the crate and how they might be used. Trying to concentrate on the presumption of that man. The conceited suggestion that Jack knew how to handle him. That Jack could show him something new. He concentrates the rage into a hard ball that lodges in his guts.

Entering the Hub. Eyes on him, three pairs, wide with surprise. He marches past Jack, who stands open-mouthed, gaping like a fish. Gwen has a hand over her mouth and appears to be trying not to laugh so he ignores her, heading over to Sean.

"Christ, is that how you dress when you're on the pull?"

Ianto nods once. "You ready?"

Sean looks him over, doubtfully. "Okay then, but I don't want anyone thinking that we're a couple, alright? Don't want to put the girls off."

"Fine by me. Let's go."

When they reach the cog-wheel door, Ianto finally dares a quick glance back. The naked hurt in Jack's eyes almost makes him falter in his purpose, so he looks away, intent on the night ahead. The door rolls shut behind them and they head up to street level.

*****

Alone in the Hub once more, Jack scans the CCTV, searching for that familiar figure. He tracks the two men across the city centre, only losing them when they enter the dark confines of a dodgy looking pub. Should he follow? Check that Ianto doesn't get into anything he can't handle? _What can he handle, after all?_

With a sigh, Jack accepts that he really doesn't have a clue. If Ianto was telling the truth, then he knows exactly what he's doing going out dressed like a rent boy, and Jack should probably just be grateful that he's not gone into one of the bars in the next street. There's one in particular, Jack knows, where a young man looking like that would be bent over with his jeans around his ankles within about ten minutes. It's not the promiscuous behaviour that bothers him, as his Fifty-first century mores refuse to label it as such. It's just that Ianto could be hurt; abused by some lout when he should be here with Jack. Here with someone who knows how to treat him properly. Who knows what he's worth.

He is stirred out of his indecision by the beeping of his wrist-strap. It's Tula. Something's changed. Reluctantly he tears himself away from the screen and heads towards the cells.


	26. Chapter 26

Two chapters today, as I won't be able to post tomorrow!

*****

The interior of the pub is a sweltering mass of bodies and it takes them some time to get to the bar. Ianto feels his resolve wavering as they press through the crowd, his ears assaulted by harsh music; nose twitching at the mingled sweat and perfumes; eyes dazzled by the bizarre hairdos and facial jewellery of the punters. He leans into Sean's ear, shouts that he's heading outside and hands him a tenner to cover the round. Sean nods as Ianto points at the beer garden sign over the open back door.

"Yeah, I could do with a smoke. Find us a table?"

The "garden" is almost as busy as the pub, a drab patio packed with smokers and raucous with laughter. The music is quieter here, thankfully, although the air quality is not much better. Ianto sidles through the groups of chattering people, scanning the tables for anyone about to leave. Eventually he gets lucky and manages to be standing by a table as two teenage girls in black ripped clothing get up from the benches. Waiting for Sean, he glares at anyone who looks like they might want to fill the empty seats, then remembers he's meant to be out on the pull. Trouble is, he doesn't really feel like it any more. Scanning the crowd, he's hard pushed to find anyone he finds even remotely attractive, male or female. He gets a few appraising gazes himself, mostly from young women who give him flirtatious smiles. His breath hitches for a moment as he spots a dark haired, well built man in a long grey coat. But then the man turns and the face is all wrong: bearded and decorated with with rings through the nose, eyebrows and lower lip. Shuddering, Ianto wonders what all that metal would feel like against his skin, and unbidden memories flood back of some of the more intimate body piercings of the men who'd picked him up back in London.

"You alright, mate? Sorry that took so long. Got chatting to a couple of really fit girls. Reckon they'll come out and join us in a bit. Hope you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?" Ianto asks, glad to have his reverie broken. He takes his pint of lager and smiles at the confused expression on Sean's face as he works out how to answer.

"Uh, well, just thought it might cramp your style as you're not into girls n' all that."

Sighing, Ianto ponders how much of himself he wants to reveal to this gauche young man. "I'm not gay, Sean. I know you might find this hard to believe, but I've had girlfriends."

The look on Sean's face is comical as he assimilates this new piece of information. "But, I just assumed... I mean... Er... You act like..."

Ianto decides to rescue him from saying something stupid. "I'm bi, Sean. I swing both ways. Get the best of both worlds, supposedly," _or the worst of both in my case._ "You need to think more carefully before jumping to conclusions."

"Oh god, sorry mate, I fucked up big time, didn't I?" Sean seems genuinely contrite, and Ianto curses himself for being so touchy. He doesn't want to alienate his only friend.

"It's not your fault. I'm just pissed off about something else. An assumption someone made about me. Didn't mean to take it out on you." He looks up into the green eyes, which are studying him intently.

"Was it Jack?"

Annoyed at the blunt question and where the conversation might lead, Ianto looks down at the table, spying Sean's pack of tobacco. "Do you mind if I have a rollie?" he asks, not really wanting to smoke but needing a distraction.

"Didn't think you smoked," Sean says, pushing the pack of Drum towards him.

"Haven't done for years," _since Lisa made me give up._ "Feel like being a bit naughty for a change."

"Yeah, well, you're dressed for it," Sean comments, a mischievous smile curving his lips as he stares at Ianto's neck.

Ianto feels himself start to blush, and tries to distract himself by concentrating on spreading out tobacco on the rizla. He can sense that Sean is still watching him, which makes his fingers clumsy so that shreds of tobacco fall everywhere when he attempts to roll the cigarette.

"Here, let me," Sean says, reaching over and taking the crumpled paper from Ianto's grasp. Their fingertips brush together and Ianto starts at the unexpected contact.

"So what's it like, then?" Sean asks, deftly assembling a fresh roll-up.

_Oh, here we go. What every supposedly heterosexual man always wants to know after a few beers... _ "What's what like?"

"You know: being with a man." He hands Ianto the cigarette, then offers his lighter, holding it lit so that Ianto has to lean over the table towards him.

Drawing in the cloying smoke, Ianto wonders how best to respond. He remembers only too clearly some of the remarks and personal questions made by his colleagues in London after he'd been spotted leaving a particularly notorious pub with a rather friendly man. He examines Sean, but can't see any hint of malice in the curious eyes; those dazzling green eyes set in that finely sculpted face. A possibility springs to mind, and Ianto finds himself smirking.

"Well, there's really only one way to find out, if you're that curious," he suggests, raising an eyebrow and fixing Sean with a gaze he hopes is smouldering rather than desperate.

Now it's Sean's turn to blush. He looks down, seemingly absorbed in rolling another cigarette and mutters, "No, I don't reckon I'm that curious after all." He avoids Ianto's gaze for a few moments longer, before looking at him intently. "Ianto, what's the deal with you and Jack? In fact, what's the deal with you? I'm confused, 'cause you say you've only been at Torchwood for a couple of months, yet there's all these records of you going back before that."

Taking another deep drag of the roll-up, and coughing it out again instantly, Ianto decides that he may as well fill Sean in. It's too draining to keep secrets from people you have to spend so much time with. So he tells Sean of his abduction by Jack, giving the outline of what he has since discovered about the relationship between his parallel self and their boss, without going into any of the more intimate details. He finds himself growing amused by the shocked expression on Sean's face, and pauses to enjoy it.

"No way! You're from another world! That is so fucking amazing. That's proper science fiction, that is."

Ianto chuckles. "What we do for a living is proper science fiction too. You needn't sound so shocked."

"So what's it like in your universe?" Sean's eyes shine so brightly that it's a shame to have to let him down.

"Just the same as this one I'm afraid. Only difference being, as far as I can tell, that in this one I got a job with Torchwood and met Jack." He chews his lower lip for a moment, thinking about Jack and what it would have been like to have met him a few years earlier.

"God, poor sod. This must be so bloody weird for him. No wonder he's mooning around after you. You know he stalks you on the CCTV, don't you?"

Ianto tenses, his breath catching in his throat. "He does?"

"Yeah, all the time. He thinks he's covering his traces but I'm too good for him." A smug smile fleets across Sean's face before it falls into a more serious expression. "He must be having a total nightmare. I remember at school I was going out with an identical twin. It was like torture 'cause I fancied both sisters but they weren't up for a threesome or anything. And although the twin was a different person in some ways, they were just so bloody similar it used to blow my mind. Used to keep wondering what it would be like if I'd chosen the other one in the first place."

This unexpected sympathy for Jack's plight gives Ianto a sharp stab of guilt. Has he been unfair? Expected too much from the man? He feels something tight loosen inside him, and all of a sudden feels tears start to form in his eyes. He sniffs loudly, blinking rapidly and blaming it on the cigarette when Sean asks if he's alright.

Fortunately for Ianto, at this point the two girls arrive, sitting down next to him and Sean. He tries to pay attention to the inconsequential babble, but finds his mind drifting to thoughts of more congenial company. Masculine company. After a few minutes he downs the rest of his pint and stands.

"You going to the bar?" Sean asks, not taking his eyes off the voluptuous brunette next to him.

"No, I'm not feeling so good. Sorry ladies," he shakes hands with the two girls who seem bemused by his manners. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, Sean."

As he reaches the door leading back into the pub Ianto looks back. The two girls are now sitting on either side of Sean, who has his arms round both of them, a satisfied grin lighting up his face. The cosy scene disturbs him, stirring up that dangerous hunger again. Ianto turns to leave, suddenly desperate for different company. He has something quite specific in mind, and as he finally breaks free of the crowded interior his steps speed up. There's somewhere he needs to be.


	27. Chapter 27

The door swings shut behind Ianto with a grating protest. He shivers in the cool air and pulls his jacket tighter as he sets off down the corridor, footsteps echoing off the dripping stone walls. He's chosen to enter the Hub through the underground car park door as he can reach Tula's cell undetected; assuming Jack hasn't been tracking him back from the pub, that is. Only she can help calm this roiling torment inside. Only she can bring him serenity. He breaks into a run as he nears his destination, so intent on reaching her that he doesn't notice the open cell door until he is standing in it, breathing heavily and staring at the scene in front of him.

Jack is there, holding Tula's hand and looking up at him with startled eyes.

Moments pass, expanding into a yawning silence that neither man seems able to break. Ianto's head swims, whirling thoughts giving him no purchase or guidance. He senses his body begin to move of it's accord, stepping forward, closer to the bed that bars his way to Jack. Automatic pleasantries take over, and he says _Hi _without thinking. The word comes out hesitantly, his real feelings masked even from himself. The anger and defiance have dissolved away, leaving him with a thumping, sickening sensation deep inside that he can't interpret.

"Hi," Jack responds softly, his expression guarded but not hostile.

There's something in Jack's eyes that sends a surge of adrenaline through Ianto's body. Heart racing, palms sweaty, he steps closer until the metal bed frame prevents any further approach. He clutches instinctively at Tula's hand, swallows and his eyes flick shut for a moment; but when he opens them Jack is still staring at him, that glinting promise ever present in the unfathomable depths of his gaze. And Ianto realises that he doesn't need to fear it. Doesn't need to lose himself in order to gain what he wants. He is here, and Jack sees him for who he is. The knowledge passes to him intact and indisputable, a fact to file alongside all the other certainties in the storehouse of his mind.

_**Show yourself to me. I want to know everything.**_

The words make Ianto start, as Jack's lips didn't move. Something about his response must have amused Jack, as a smile plays around the corners of his mouth and twinkles in his eyes. Merriment bubbles up inside Ianto, but it feels strange to him. Alien somehow.

Any further thought is interrupted by the monitor bleeping and Jack turns towards it, dropping Tula's hand to tap at the controls. "I meant to turn that damn thing off. She's waking, Ianto. I'm sure of it. All her vital signs have changed and she's been communicating with me." His eyes gleam as he says this, inviting Ianto to share in his hope.

Ianto looks down at the prone body for confirmation, and notices the way her eyelids twitch. "That's new," he breathes, "Her eyes, Jack! Did you see?"

Not waiting for a response, he closes his eyes and concentrates, slowing his breathing and emptying his mind of everything but an entreaty for Tula to find him. A disorienting wave of sensations leaves him gasping and giddy, but then he is pulled back to the present by a squeezing of his hand. The hand that she was holding. Hardly daring to hope, he opens his eyes. And there she is, jet black eyes open and small mouth smiling.

_Thank you! Thank you so much for guiding me out of the dreamworld, Ianto Jones. You would honour me if you would accept a gift in return._

"She spoke, Jack! In my head! Did you hear it?"

Jack shakes his head, the tender smile on his face calling up a swelling, bursting feeling in Ianto's chest. Before either of them has a chance to speak, Tula reaches out to take hold of Jack's hand and his eyebrows raise as he looks at her, a question in the shape of his lips. Her smile grows wider, revealing pearly teeth as a musical trill bubbles out of her.

_Yes, Jack, now. Show him what you showed me._

_**Are you ready for this, Ianto?**_

The question puzzles him, coming as it does directly into his head and having no idea what Jack is referring to, but recognising him in the cadence of the speech. A feeling accompanies the words, warm, loving and mischievous, giving Ianto a rush of reckless desire for more.

"I think so," he murmurs, wondering what he's getting into here. Jack's blue eyes sparkle with amusement.

_**You don't need to talk, Ianto. Not while Tula's connecting us. Just think what you want to say and I'll understand.**_

_Okay then. What did you have in mind?_

_**I've got some explaining to do, I know. I can show you anything you want to know about me, about the other you, all my memories. It will be like you looking through my eyes, hearing my thoughts, feeling my emotions. Are you ready for that?**_

_I think so. I mean... yes. Show me._

_**Better brace yourself, then!**_

And the look on Jack's face is positively gleeful as he starts to guide Ianto through the memories of his parallel self. Ianto closes his eyes to concentrate better, seeing an image of himself in a very similar outfit to tonight, leaning against a tree and flirting outrageously. He feels Jack's curiosity, suspicion and temptation mingling as the younger him introduces himself: "Jones, Ianto Jones." Memories crowd in, a clear thread linking them in Jack's interested gaze, his hope, desire... He traces out the growing attraction between them, the palpable tension investing every encounter with unspoken significance.

Then betrayal, rage, hurt... And a growing respect for such love, loyalty and downright deviousness. Growing closer as friends, then more, so much more...

Ianto shifts uncomfortably as Jack treats him to the disconcerting experience of seeing himself in their intimate moments. He feels himself start to grow as hot and bothered as the man with his face, and would ask Jack to stop if the memories weren't flooded with all of Jack's joy and affection. Incendiary encounters segue into tender embraces, as if his guide senses his discomfort and wants to reassure. Giggling fits, tickling contests, silly games... And more than that; deeper and stronger. Admiration for his abilities and courage. His level-headed handling of dangerous situations. His steadfast loyalty to his boss, friend and lover. Right up to the end...

_Show me, Jack. Please? I need to see how it ends._

He can feel Jack's reluctance, but he acquiesces, giving Ianto those final moments along with all of the guilt, sorrow and rage. The emptiness that led to a reprehensible act of desperation and the resultant self-hatred. The slow healing process on an alien land. The glimmer of hope as he found the means to breach the barriers between universes.

And then it's him: confused, vulnerable and lashing out. And Jack's resulting confusion and hurt, self-reproach and desperate lust. Seeing their encounters through different eyes, Ianto realises that he mistook so many gestures and words. Saw a predator when really there were only two lonely men seeking comfort. And then Jack brings him to the present, and he sees himself dressed as bait, angry for reasons Jack doesn't fully understand but forgives nonetheless.

And it's enough. Enough to comprehend and make some kind of sense of the situation. To see himself distinct in Jack's mind. His own man.

_That was... That was a lot to take in. I need to think about it._

_**It's okay. If there's anything you want to show me now, then go ahead.**_

_I don't know how to._

_**Just remember what you want to. I won't be able to pry into your mind. Show me whatever you're comfortable with.**_

And so Ianto responds, giving Jack an overview of his depression and desperation after losing Lisa, his attempts to find comfort, his lowest ebb after losing his family too. The blade cutting through his skin as he sought a way out. His slow rehabilitation into a half-life, all joy a distant memory.

And then to here. Giving Jack the other side of their encounters. Showing him how his actions came across. Asking forgiveness for his prickly behaviour.

When he reaches the present moment, he opens his eyes to find Jack smiling softly, eyes shining.

"Do we understand each other now?" Jack asks, voice soft and mellow.

"Yes, I think so."

Ianto looks over at Tula, who is also smiling. She squeezes both hands before letting them go, and placing them over the disc in her navel. A golden light starts to emanate, escaping from the chinks between her linked fingers. It spreads its tendrils around her body, and as Jack and Ianto watch open-mouthed, she glows brighter and brighter until they have to close their eyes.

_Thank you for caring for me. Farewell Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones. Look after each other._

As the red light through his eyelids fades away, Ianto opens them to find an empty space beyond the Tula-shaped afterglow. He looks up at Jack, who mirrors his bewilderment.

"Where did she go?"


	28. Chapter 28

They both look down at the empty bed, the IV drip feed and monitoring sensors lying there forlorn, sticky tape still attached. Jack checks his wrist strap and frowns.

"What is it? Tell me Jack! Is she alright?" Ianto feels his panic start to rise, and has to make a conscious effort to control his breathing. He squeezes his eyes shut and sends out a silent prayer for Tula: _Please let her be safe._

"I can't tell from here. I need the rift monitoring software. Come on, you can help."

Ianto hears Jack striding out of the cell, tries to gather his wits together which is difficult after everything he's just been through, then follows. He hurries along the corridor until he catches up with Jack, adjusting his stride to match. Despite his concern for Tula, he notices how easy it is to keep in step, and has an overwhelming urge to reach out for Jack's hand. But he doesn't want to seem too needy, or bring back memories of his panic attacks, so he fights down the temptation and contents himself with stealing glances at his companion. Jack's face is set in a grim expression, but he must sense the heat of Ianto's gaze because he turns and catches him watching. The furrowed brow softens and his eyes show something Ianto remembers seeing before. In Lisa's eyes.

They get to the Hub without speaking, and Jack heads straight to the console linked to the Rift monitoring equipment.

"I'll send you the data. Cross reference it with the Rift spike on her arrival. Maybe we can work out what happened." He doesn't look at Ianto, and the trust in his ability is implicit.

Ianto takes a moment to calm himself, hangs his jacket over the back of the chair, then begins to call up data about the Rift spike all those weeks ago. There follows a tense ten minutes or so of chasing numbers and correlating data. The Rift activity is unusual in both cases, with a signature unlike anything they have seen before. The only thing that Ianto can determine for certain, is that there are matching patterns in both sets of data that suggest some kind of control over the path through the Rift.

"So, looks like our little Tula knew what she was doing!"

The voice shocks Ianto, coming from behind him and close to his ear. He steps aside to allow Jack access to the keyboard, and starts to talk him through the tentative conclusions he has made. Jack nods, a smile starting to form as he studies Ianto's research.

"She must have been able to control her destination with her mind. In all my years roaming the galaxy, I've never come across that level of psychic ability before. It's incredible," Jack says, shaking his head as childlike wonder lights up his face; making it even more handsome, if such a thing were possible.

Observing the way Jack's face is transformed, Ianto suddenly becomes aware of how close they are standing. Heated anticipation prickles through him; the air between them charged with energy. He turns his body to face Jack's, uncomfortably conscious of the sweat breaking out over his skin and making the collar round his neck feel clammy and restrictive. He reaches up for the buckle, blushing as he recalls the impulse that led him to put it on in the first place. He wants to say something to apologise for his childish behaviour, but his mouth is bone dry and he can't seem to remember how to form words.

Jack's eyes crinkle at the corners and he takes hold of Ianto's shoulders, gently turning him around to face the other direction.

"Here, let me," he offers, voice soft as his fingers get to work with the obstinate fastening.

"Don't think it's ever been done up this tightly. My neck's a bit thicker than yours."

Ianto's breath hitches as he realises what Jack is implying. A vision of Jack in fetish gear lodges itself in his mind and proves very difficult to erase. It really doesn't help with the dry mouth problem. Or the increasingly ragged breathing... Eventually the stiff leather yields and Jack lifts the collar away, setting it down on the desk.

Ianto breathes a sigh of relief as the cool air meets his damp skin, raising goosebumps and sending a shiver down his spine. Then hot breath ghosts across his neck and the shivers intensify. His body thrums with anticipation, and he has to force himself to relax, leaning back against Jack in a wordless invitation.

He is understood.

Arms snake around his waist, pulling him against hard flesh, every contour apparent through the thin layers of clothing. Lips brush his neck, gently at first, growing more insistent as Ianto lets out a long, shuddering breath. That unique scent that is Jack surrounds him, and he wants to fill his lungs with it. Wants to find out if Jack's skin tastes of that same spicy musk. He is pushed away, then turned around again, and there is a brief moment of blue eyes meeting and asking permission, before everything else fades away in the clash of lips and tongues. They kiss deeply, hungrily, as if laying claim on each other. His hands explore Jack's body through his clothing, noting the firm bulk of his muscles, gravitating downwards to those buttocks he can't help but grab hold of and crush towards himself. Jack responds in kind, and the resultant friction in Ianto's groin is almost unbearable. A leg insinuates itself between his, pushing him back against the edge of the desk so that Ianto has to sit or lose balance. Before he knows what's happened, his legs are spread open with Jack between them, shamelessly grinding into him with his hips whilst holding his head in one hand, pulling his shirt out of his jeans with the other; sucking on his lower lip as he pulls his head back.

"Ianto..." he moans, voice rough with emotion. "Feels so good, so good..."

And then those hands are on the skin of his back, leaving burning trails as they move, stroking and squeezing in their relentless onslaught. And that mouth is on his neck, the rasp of stubble forming an exquisite contrast to the salve of tongue and lips.

_Oh god, stop it, it's too much...._

_---_

"No... Jack, stop! Not here. Not like this." Ianto insists, pushing Jack off him roughly.

Jack reels, giddy with lust. Not able to make sense of Ianto's actions. _What the fuck? What is it this time?_

But Ianto is already walking away from him. Leaving him bereft and boiling with unspent passion. He stares, open mouthed, about to let loose a string of curses.

Then Ianto turns- sees him- smiles roguishly.

"Well? Are you coming?"

And he walks off in the direction of his quarters, not looking back. It takes Jack a moment to recover himself, before he follows, footsteps bouncing with delighted anticipation.

*****

**Author's Note:** As you may have guessed, the next chapter contains material of an explicit nature. If that's not your cup of tea, then please skip it and go straight to chapter 30 (the final chapter). You'll be able to get the gist of what's happened ;D


	29. Chapter 29

_He leads. I follow, absorbed in watching him walk. The stride of his long legs surprisingly relaxed. I don't feel relaxed. The grace of his body apparent in every movement. What did I untuck his shirt for? The tails are spoiling the view of that squeezable, fuckable arse that I can't wait to free from it's denim wrapping. Can't wait to bury myself in him; have him every which way. For fuck's sake, calm down! I don't wanna scare him off. Don't want to say anything stupid. Going to have to work on keeping my mouth shut. Or otherwise occupied... filled. That would be better..._

Ianto arrives at the door, reaching for his jacket pocket and the key card. The pocket of the jacket draped over the back of a chair in the Hub.

"Bugger!"

Jack is behind him, grabbing his hips.

"Is that a request, Mr Jones?" Jack teases, pressing up against him so that Ianto can feel just how hard he's made him.

A wordless sound of pleasure escapes Ianto's lips as he wriggles against Jack, teasing him in return.

"Got to go back... Get key..." Further words become impossible as Jack slides a hand down to his crotch and starts to palm his erection through the fabric of his jeans, whilst simultaneously nibbling at his earlobe.

"No need. Here, let me."

And the delicious friction of Jack's hand ceases as he reaches for his wrist-strap, pressing a few buttons. The door swings open.

"Huh, you can do that?" Ianto's mind races. Races as well as it can, anyway, when it feels like all the blood in his body is moving south. "You could have got in here at any time?"

"Yeah, that's right. But I'm a gentleman. Not one to force myself on attractive young men." Jack's actions seem to contradict this as he pushes Ianto into the room, slams the door shut and gets to work on the buttons of his shirt, whilst lavishing attention on the skin revealed.

Ianto moans as Jack's tongue finds one of his nipples, hissing when he sucks hard but relishing the jolt of pleasure that travels straight to his cock. He barely has time to grab hold of Jack's shoulders before he starts moving down again, freeing the last buttons and pulling the shirt off his shoulders. The air on his sweat dampened skin feels good, but not as good as the pressure of Jack's lips on the area just above his fly. And then Jack's hands are kneading his arse as he kneels, nuzzling Ianto's erection through the restrictive denim. It's almost unbearable, and he's torn between unfastening his jeans himself, or just submitting to the sensation. His hands are in Jack's hair now, pulling him away so that he can get to the fly buttons. Jack looks peeved, but smirks as Ianto's intention becomes clear.

"Can't wait, eh?" He makes a tutting sound. "So impatient. So eager..."

Jack makes no effort to help Ianto with the obstinate buttons, looking around the room instead.

"Looks like you were expecting me," he chuckles as his eyes are drawn to the open crate. "All my favourite toys."

Ianto follows his gaze and blushes. "Yeah, well... You were the one that left them in here. What were you thinking? If I'd found them a couple of months ago I'd have been freaked out." But his voice sounds curious rather than cross, and he finally frees his buttons, wrenching down his jeans and boxers so that his cock bobs up, hitting Jack on the cheek.

---

Turning back to Ianto, Jack's eyes darken as he feasts on the sight. He takes a long swipe with his tongue up the length of Ianto's erection, before leaping up with an impish grin.

"Hold that thought for me. I think there's something in here we might be able to use." Rummaging through the heap of sex toys whilst Ianto frees himself from the rest of his clothing, Jack tries to explain. "I wasn't thinking straight at the time. Grief, you know?" Looking up at a now gloriously naked Ianto and almost forgetting what he was after. "Ummm..." Making himself concentrate.

"Aha! Knew I'd put some in here!" Jack exclaims, holding the tube of lube aloft like a child with a new toy.

"Oh... And you think you'll get a chance to use that, do you?" Ianto asks, deadpan delivery and inscrutable face giving Jack no clue as to whether he's overstepped the mark.

"Er, well, only if you want to. I mean, we don't have to. I just thought..."

And then Ianto has a hand under his chin, pulling him up into a blistering kiss whilst getting to work on freeing Jack from his clothing. They tumble onto the bed together, lube temporarily forgotten as frenzied hands, lips and tongues explore naked skin.

Eventually Jack manages to pin Ianto down, straddling him whilst holding his hands above his head. Dark eyes challenge him as Ianto struggles, panting and flushed.

"Please, Ianto. Let me show you how much I care." He uses his left hand to hold Ianto's, whilst running his right down the length of the scarred arm, caressing gently as he goes. When he reaches Ianto's cheek, he feels the man under him relax and submit to his attentions. Letting go of the hands and moving down the bed, he lifts a foot and begins to lick and nuzzle at the toes.

_Oh my God! Stop it, stop it, stop... No don't! That feels so fucking amazing I want to kick out and grab him and pull him down and... His tongue on my legs, feels so good. Feel like I'm going to explode. Don't think I can stay still much longer. Gotta stop myself grabbing his head and forcing him down on me. Want to know what that sweet mouth feels like wrapped around my cock, want to fuck him so deep he'll choke, want to see him swallow me down as I shoot my load. Think of something else, look up, but it's no good as he's there in the mirror. That gorgeous body I want to know every inch of. Want to feel wrapped around me as I come. Oh fuck, he's almost there. I'm almost there. Hold on, hold on, hold on..._

Taking a moment to watch Ianto writhing in torment, clutching fistfuls of the sheets, Jack chuckles, licking the juncture of thigh and groin and drawing out a yelp from his lover. Running his tongue over the rougher skin of his ball sac elicits a whimper, making Jack wonder what noise taking him deep into throat will cause. He doesn't wait long to find out, because he can tell from the flushed skin and barely restrained bucking hips that Ianto is on the brink of orgasm. There's only time for a couple of deep sucks before he hears a wordless shout; his mouth filling with semen which he gulps down greedily. Ianto always tastes so good. Those hands are in his hair now, pulling painfully as Ianto thrusts himself into his mouth, pumping him full of his cum. And then that moment comes, always Jack's favourite, when the man underneath him stills, relaxes, and he can make his way up to those luscious lips and claim his post-coital kiss. Deep and slow and sated...

---

"It's been a long time," Ianto feels compelled to say, slightly embarrassed at how little control he had over himself. But those blue eyes are smiling down at him, and he knows it's not a problem. Probably only to be expected the first time with someone as talented as Jack, anyway.

"It certainly has," Jack murmurs, running a lazy finger through the hair on Ianto's chest, before veering off to circle a nipple.

He shouldn't be responding again that quickly, surely, and feels a need to reciprocate Jack's attentions before receiving any more pleasure himself. Besides which, he wants to find out just how much noise he can force out of Jack, and just how long the man can really last under a determined onslaught of mouth and hands. He smirks, notes the delight in Jack's face as he reads his intention in his expression, then pushes him back onto the bed.

"Your turn now, mister," he mutters between nibbles to Jack's collarbone, his hands exploring the surprisingly smooth expanse of chest underneath him. Experimentally, he tries sucking at the juncture of neck and shoulder. Jack gasps, and Ianto smiles as he runs a line of open mouthed kisses down towards a nipple, standing proud. Using his teeth gently, then more insistently as he gauges how much Jack enjoys it, he teases the sensitive flesh; rewarded by the hoarse panting as Jack's chest heaves underneath him. He reaches over to the neglected nipple and pinches firmly whilst sucking on the other.

"Oh yeah! That's the spot, Ianto!"

_Damn; still capable of coherent speech. Okay then, moving down, sucking, nibbling, scratching. He likes that, I can tell. Feel so powerful. Want to see his face contorted with pleasure. Want to hear him scream my name. _

Jack's breathing speeds up as Ianto runs short fingernails across his skin, leaving white trails behind them which turn pink as the blood rushes back. Almost there now, taking time to explore his navel, plunging his tongue into the dip there and making Jack shudder. And then further down...

_Hmmm, he's not quite there yet. Better take my time, tease him with my breath and the tip of my tongue. God, but he's big. So beautiful. Smells so good. Tastes fucking fantastic. I'm getting hard again._

"Unngh! Such a cock tease, you are... Ahhhh, don't make me beg!" Jack gasps, voice rough with desire.

Pushing Jack's legs up, Ianto settles down between them. Feels something uncomfortable underneath him. It's the lube. _Hmmmm... Ideas.... _ Distracts Jack by taking his cock in his mouth, sucking him in as deep as he can manage whilst unscrewing the cap and coating his fingers. Teases with his fingertips, running over his sac and that ultra-sensitive skin on the way to his entrance. Circling round until he's made Jack groan something incoherent. Feeling his cock throbbing in his mouth as he pulls up then pushes down again. Then plunging into him with one finger... two.

_I know what I want now. Never done this before. Never wanted to, but now it's different. Now it wouldn't feel like a substitute for Lisa; like betrayal. Now I just want to know him in every way. Preparing him with my fingers. I know what to do. I've had it done to me enough times. Looking up into his glazed eyes, his cock still in my mouth. I'm holding the lube and he knows what I want. What I'm asking._

"God, yes! Please! Fuck me Ianto!"

Ianto grins, releasing Jack from his mouth and covering himself in the slippery gel before lining up...

"Hold on a moment!"

Jack struggles to find a pillow to shove under his arse, helping with the angle. Ianto takes a deep breath then plunges into him; slowly, carefully, all the way in.

_I'm trembling, he's quivering. Eyes meeting. Laughing: breathlessly in wonder. And I tell him. Tell him this is the first time I've done this. He's puzzled, so I explain about always having been bottom and he nods in understanding. And he reaches out to stroke my cheek with so much tenderness that I want to cry, so I start to fuck him instead. He's tight. Tighter than a woman and it feels amazing. So good, so good..._

Slowly, steadily, building and building the tempo until they're rutting frantically. Ianto opens his eyes and Jack's staring into them, bucking beneath him as he comes, chanting _Ianto, Ianto, Ianto_... Filling the space between them with his semen. And the waves of contractions inside him send Ianto over the edge, catching one more glimpse of smiling eyes before everything goes white.

Coming to, Ianto finds himself collapsed, sticky and sweaty over the reclining form of his lover. He raises his head and rests it on one hand, whilst Jack ruffles his hair.

"Hey there. Decided to join me again, have you?"

They kiss; languid, taking their time to get to know each other. Bruised lips meeting softly, tenderly. Eventually, heaving a sigh but recognising the inevitable, Ianto pulls away, sitting up and grimacing at the cum matting his chest hair.

"I need a shower." He looks down at Jack, equally sticky and smiling dreamily. A thought occurs. A very pleasant thought.

"Want to join me?"


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's note:** this is the final chapter. Thank you all for reading and leaving me such lovely comments. I do plan to return to this 'verse at some point, but I have some other stories that are demanding to be written first!

* * *

On waking, the first sensation to register is a heavy arm lying possessively across his chest... then the soft breath tickling his ear... then the unfamiliar warmth of another body next to his. Ianto opens his eyes and stares up at the reflection; Jack's sleeping form nestled against him. Somehow he hadn't expected him to still be here – didn't think the man needed any sleep – and a warm, cosy feeling grows inside him. Turning to face him, examining the recumbent features, younger in sleep, closed lids hiding the lifetimes in his eyes. He traces a fingertip gently across Jack's cheek, his lips, down into the cleft of his chin. So beautiful. So peaceful. Sleep so deep that he's loath to wake him, although the temptation to run his hands over that body again is hard to resist. He remembers a journal entry detailing some of the best ways to wake Jack from his slumber. Smiling at the thought of the first three, but reluctant to presume such familiarity so early in their intimacy, he settles on the fourth method: coffee.

Moving Jack's arm with care, Ianto frees himself from the covers and stands, stretching. He's ravenously hungry and his body feels sore in all manner of places, but alive; tingling with anticipation and yet satisfied at the same time. He finds his dressing gown, gathers Jack's discarded clothing and arranges it over the chair, then sets off for a caffeine hit.

*****

Lining up two mugs, Ianto sets about making a flask of coffee to take back with him. It's hard to concentrate on what he's doing, as memories of the time Jack woke him in the night keep surfacing. A dopey grin spreads across his face as details return. That man certainly has stamina. And talented hands. And quite an imagination...

He starts at the sensation of hands on his hips. Lips brushing against his neck.

"Jack! You made me jump!" But he can't be annoyed. Not when Jack's doing _that_.

Jack's chuckle vibrates through him, calling up an answering laugh.

"Woke up when the bed got cold. Thought you might have run off and left me. Had to come and see what you were up to," Jack murmurs into his ear, the smile evident in his tone.

"Well, you can see what I'm up to, can't you? And you'd better stop harassing me if you want any coffee this morning." Ianto tries to sound businesslike, but it's hard when Jack's licking his neck and moving his hands like that. "There'll be plenty of time for that when I've made the coffee. It's only half six."

He turns around, gently pushing Jack back with the palm of his hand. He takes a moment to enjoy the sight of him in a crumpled t-shirt and trousers, braces hanging down and hair standing on end. His left cheek is pink and still bears creases from the pillow.

"Mmmmm," and he can't stop himself licking his lips. "Er, yes, you stay over there. I'll make coffee. You can make yourself useful and find something to eat. I'm starving. Never did have any dinner last night."

"Oh yeah, I know what you're hungry for," Jack teases, leaning back against the counter and just watching Ianto at work. "It's gonna be a tough day, having to keep my hands off you at work," he grumbles, still grinning lasciviously.

"Who says you have to?"

"You mean you don't mind? If the others find out?"

Ianto turns to find Jack staring at him in amazement, and a little stab of annoyance makes itself known.

"It's not going to be like it was with him, Jack. I'm different," he snaps, regretting the harsh tone when he sees the hurt in Jack's eyes. He tries to explain himself better. "I mean, they all sort of know anyway, don't they? It's not going to come as a big surprise to anyone."

"Hmmmm... So what do you suggest? Some kind of announcement over the morning coffee?" Jack raises an eyebrow, smiling impishly.

"Thought it might be more fun to see how long it takes them to figure it out. A fiver on Gwen being the one to notice first." They share a conspiratorial grin. Ianto fills the flask with freshly brewed coffee, the rich aroma stimulating his hunger even further. "Now, what about breakfast? Did you even try to find any food yet?"

Turning to the cupboards with guilty haste, Jack manages to unearth a packet of biscuits. "Will chocolate HobNobs do you? Doesn't seem to be much else. Oh, don't give me that face. It's just like having a bowl of porridge, all those oats..." Handing Ianto a biscuit, which he wolfs down in seconds, Jack has a better idea.

"Tell you what, Ianto, let's finish these off with some coffee and get your strength up. Then, soon as it's open we'll head out to this excellent little café I know where you can get a warm welcome, a full English and a half-decent coffee. Whadda you say?" Jack asks, pulling Ianto close with the cords of his dressing gown and landing a kiss on his lips.

"Mmmmm... I say how long have we got 'til they open?"

"Oh, a good hour and a half. We'll have to find a way of killing some time." Jack suggests, eyes twinkling.

"Well, I can think of one or two things..." Ianto murmurs, sliding a hand down Jack's back and pulling him even closer.

"Ianto Jones, I like the way your mind works! Now how about we..." but all further conversation is stopped by Ianto's lips on his, kissing him with an intensity that promises so much more.

Minutes later, they make a hasty retreat back to the comfort of Ianto's room.

*****

"Right then, what's everyone working on this fine morning?" Jack asks, leaning back against the railings and grinning expansively. He has just filled them in on the situation with Tula, dealing with all the questions raised. Ianto kept quiet, affirming points only when necessary.

"I've got these anomalous health complaints in the Butetown area. Probably nothing Rift-related, but there was some activity there last week we never got to the bottom of. Need to cross-reference and search the NHS databases for similar complaints in the past. I'll head out to do some interviews later," Gwen replies, too focused on the task ahead of her to notice much else.

Jack turns to Sean, who's resting his head on one hand and sporting some magnificent dark rings under his eyes.

"Uh, yeah, right. Got that coding to look at on the Rift predictor. See if I can fine tune the bugger."

"Sure you're up to that today? Looks like both you boys had a successful night," Jack smirks, glancing over at Ianto who is suddenly intent on removing a speck of lint from his sleeve.

Gwen looks up sharply, eyes scanning Jack and Ianto suspiciously. Why would Jack be so happy after Ianto going out like that? Does he just mean the Tula situation? But Jack is now looking at Rhys, and Ianto is checking over something on his clipboard. He looks a little tired, she thinks, but otherwise seems like the usual unobtrusive Ianto, efficiently getting on with the task in hand.

"I was going to take Aeris for a little stroll down to the sub-basements this morning. Seems like a few lightbulbs need changing. You'll enjoy that, won't you my little pickle?" Rhys coos at the gurgling baby in his arms. Gwen feels a surge of love for her husband, and gives him a soppy grin. She really couldn't ask for a better dad for her little boy.

"Okay, good idea. Don't want any unpleasant accidents down there because of insufficient lighting. Couldn't handle the paperwork it generates. And, last but not least, Ianto?" Jack queries, grinning somewhat wolfishly.

"Well, I have a huge heap of paperwork to file, the Tourist Office to open, and the archives to sort out; but first things first, anyone for coffee?"

Everyone puts in their order and Ianto heads off, returning ten minutes later with a steaming latté for Gwen. She smiles up at him.

"So Ianto, did you have a fun evening?" she asks, taking a sip of her coffee and watching him carefully. He's dressed in a rather resplendent fuchsia shirt, she notices. Not a colour she's seen this Ianto wear yet.

"Yeah Ianto, where did you get off to after you scarpered? Not that I'm complaining about being left with two fit birds," Sean winks at him.

Ianto seems absorbed in the steam rising from Jack's stripy mug.

"Just came back here, sorted out the data after Tula left and then had an early night."

_He hasn't looked at us once,_ Gwen notes. She asks him for some help with her records trawl, thinking she might be able to get something else out of him if they spend some time working together.

"I'll just take Jack his coffee first. Doesn't do to keep him waiting. He gets like a bear with a sore head." And he turns and walks away, Gwen staring after him with a creased forehead, biting back a huge list of questions.

Ten minutes later, she gets up with a print-out of the symptoms the patients have been complaining about. There's something in this data that seems familiar, some sort of alien virus they've seen before, perhaps. She wishes she'd paid more attention to the medical side of things, but that was always Owen's territory. _Maybe Jack will recognise it._ Staring at the page as she opens the office door, she's too focused on her hunch to notice anything amiss.

"Jack, could you take a look..." Her words die in her throat as she takes in the sight of Ianto sitting on the desk with Jack standing between his legs. They look like they're eating each other's faces off, and their bodies are moving in such a lewd manner that she has a sudden urge to walk back out of the door and leave them to it; although another part of her secretly wants to stay and watch. She stands there in open-mouthed indecision, until Jack finally notices her and looks over Ianto's shoulder.

"Ah, Gwen! Just a bit busy at the moment. Got something I need Ianto's help with." He leers, cheeks flushed and hair a little rumpled. She feels a twinge of jealousy, _he looks so gorgeous like that._

"I'll come and find you in ten minutes," he promises, then Ianto mumbles something she can't hear. "Better make that twenty, Gwen. It's a bit of a hard problem to deal with."

As she backs out of the door, she sees Ianto's body convulsing in silent laughter and catches a last glimpse of Jack's radiant face as he leans in towards him.

"You alright, love? You look like you've seen a ghost," Rhys observes.

Gwen tells him what she's just witnessed, Sean listening in with barely concealed interest.

"Thought as much," Sean comments, a satisfied smile on his face. "They both looked a bit too smug this morning." He turns back to his screen and starts typing code.

"Oh, well, that's great news, isn't it?" Rhys says, grinning inanely and not looking in the least bit surprised.

"Yes, well, I suppose you're right. Yes. If they make each other happy then that's what's important." Rhys is now making faces at Aeris, Jack and Ianto already forgotten. She smiles at him, and does her best to remember how much she loves him and how she doesn't want anyone else.

It almost works.

*****

Coming up for air, Jack is about to suggest giving Ianto a tour of his personal quarters. It doesn't take long, consisting of only a bed, wardrobe and shower, and he's thinking of leaving the last two items off the itinerary this time. Ianto's eyes are dark and shining, his cheeks rosy and his breaths coming in gasps Jack can feel against his face. _God, he looks sexy like that._ Leaning in to suck on his lower lip, they are interrupted yet again; this time by the vortex manipulator on his wrist doing it's bloody irritating beepy-Rift-alert thing.

Jack sighs, leaning his forehead against Ianto's. "Sounds like we're needed."

"Yep, better get back to work," Ianto says, straightening his tie and reaching out to rearrange Jack's clothing and hair. The gesture fills Jack with a curious feeling, mingling a sad poignancy with something warm and hopeful. He reaches out for Ianto's hand and plants a kiss on his palm.

"We'll continue this later, maybe after dinner? I thought we could go somewhere nice, Rift permitting, of course," he says, raising his eyebrows.

"Are you asking me out on a date, sir?" Ianto asks, his tone hard to read. Gently teasing, but something more serious underneath that.

"I certainly am. Can I pick you up at eight?" Jack holds his breath, feeling absurd about getting so nervous after what they've just been up to.

"You can pick me up anytime, Jack," Ianto murmurs, pulling him close for one last, lingering kiss.

The wrist-strap beeps again and they pull apart, moving to the door as one.

"Right then, Ianto. Work to do!"

_Finis._


End file.
